Let's Read 50 Shades of Grey (and be a b*tch about it) (explicit content)

[Miss Mae]

A note to those from outside EoFF, or who are potentially connected to a publishing company:

This forum is where I first posted this idea, to see if there was any interest. Once I started looking for external support for this project, I became unsure if I should keep this thread on the internet. I thought making my work appear previously unpublished might be more appealing.

However, this thread has garnered the interest of a number of people within this small community and of others who have found it through my Twitter and Tumblr pages. I think that providing evidence that there is interest for my project idea and that it has already prompted intelligent discussion around the themes and concepts explored in 50 Shades of Grey is more important than making it seem as though my work has never been published. I hope you agree.

Thank you for your consideration and I hope you enjoy my work.


50 Shades of 50 Shades: An Analysis

Warning: Don't read if you like 50 Shades of Grey because I'm not going to be nice to it. Don't read if you're squeamish about the blatant criticism of poorly written BDSM sex scenes. Don't read if you would like to maintain the illusion that I'm a nice human being.

Introduction.

Let’s start at the very beginning

The cover of the paperback is made of a strange, smooth material that acts like a magnet for dust. I’m sure that material was designed to feel sensual, but now that it is layered with a permanent coating of dead skin cells I feel the effect has been lost.

After wiping away the dust as effectively as possible, the iconic image of a necktie is revealed. My first reaction is simply exasperation; I haven’t even opened the cover yet and already this book is depicting the man who wears this piece of fabric around his neck, whom one can only assume is Mr. Grey himself, is cold like the steel whose texture was stolen to pattern his tie.

The first page, E L James’ biography, already has a pencil note from the first time I read this book. It expresses concern for her two children. Imagining having a mother responsible for poorly-written and stupidly-famous smut makes me feel uncomfortable; however, my genuine pity is diminished slightly when I realise they are probably benefiting from the ridiculous amount of money E L James is earning from this enterprise.

The dedication and acknowledgement are laden with innuendo. ‘The master of my universe’ just begs to be interpreted in a sexual way, and such phrases as ‘thanks for sorting me out’ and ‘thanks for taking a punt’ sound suggestive in their own right. This is potentially deliberate, given the theme of the book, but I’d prefer to think it was a happy coincidence. Or perhaps everything is exactly as it seems and E L James was indeed ‘sorted out’ by Sue Malone, whoever she is.

Another title card, in case I’ve forgotten what the title of this book is already, and away we go.

[Miss Mae]

Chapter One

Ana scowls in frustration at herself in the mirror. I suppose it is plausible she could be scowling at somebody else in the mirror, but specifying that she is looking at her reflection seems unnecessary. In any case, it’s made evident in the next sentence that she isn’t scowling at herself anyway, but rather her hair.

She wastes no time before jumping into being a weak character. Her alliterated friend, Katherine Kavanagh, has forced her into doing a job when she should be studying for finals. Already it’s been established that she doesn’t have the agency to say ‘Sorry, I can’t do your interview for you; I have to study’ and I find myself praying that part of her characterisation involves her becoming less submissive; however, the only way that could happen is if somebody inserted a new ending into my book since the last time I opened it and I sadly doubt that has happened.

Ana attempts to ‘brush [her] hair into submission’, whatever that means, but apparently even her hair is more dominant than she is.

I’m not sure how Katherine, now Kate, has ‘bright’ eyes when they are also ‘red rimmed and runny’. This character is being described as simultaneously very attractive and very ill, and while I know good-looking people catch the flu just like any of us more average humans, trying to picture a snotty, bed-ridden, twenty-something as also being the height of beauty is a difficult task.

I recognise that dialogue isn’t always going to contain full sentences because formal language does not sound realistic, but they should still be punctuated correctly. ‘“Make notes, I’ll transcribe it all”’ is a comma splice whether it has little sixty-sixes and ninety-nines around it or not.

Kate asked for NyQuil in some of that filler dialogue but Ana failed to give it to her before ‘gathering her backpack’ and leaving the house. On that note, how do you gather a backpack? Is it made of a number of loose objects? Or perhaps has a lot of excess material that needs to be bunched up?

Grey House is ‘all curved glass and steel’. I personally felt this didn’t describe the materials used in the construction of the building well enough, so I was incredibly pleased when Ana continues to ensure I know that the building’s name was written ‘discreetly in steel’, there were ‘glass front doors’, and that the lobby was built with – you guessed it – glass and steel. Your bonus prize for enduring that repetition is discovering that in the construction of the lobby those architects also used white sandstone.

Now sandstone is the building material of the moment. Steel is mentioned again, but only when it is revealed as being Ana’s last name – Steele. This shows that, sadly, I will never be free from that word as I traverse these 514 pages. Ana’s name would be neat if she had the strength to make it symbolic, but so far she has seemed much too weak to be made of steel. It could be argued that the name’s purpose is one of juxtaposition, highlighting how flimsy and fragile she is. All of this considered however, I find it difficult to think beyond how appropriate these names would be for a law firm: Steele and Grey Lawyers, since 1902.

Ana is handed a ‘firmly stamped’ visitor badge. I highly doubt a fancy company like this, with all its steel and glass and sandstone, would genuinely be stamping their badges, so I wonder what could be so ‘firm’ about the typeface they’ve chosen to use.

The elevator reaches ‘terminal velocity’ and I quickly realise Ana has no understanding of what terminal velocity is or how it works.

Her preoccupation with building materials continues onto the twentieth floor. With the addition of a dark wood table, I wonder if these many textures are clashing with one another yet.

Ana reiterates her inability to function as a human being when she sits down to wait. She lives in a time when the internet is prevalent, yet she didn’t have the agency to do a quick web search for the man she is about to meet. Not only is that an appalling level of incompetence, it’s also incredibly disrespectful. But apparently the fact Ana knows nothing about this man is entirely her sick friend’s fault. Clearly.

As ‘Blonde Number Two’ moves around, her heels click on the sandstone floor. Of course they do. Where else would she be walking?

Ana needing to ‘steel’ herself is perhaps the worst pun I have ever read. That double meaning was surely supposed to sound unbelievably clever, but mostly I just feel a little nauseous. Even pencil-wielding me-from-the-past scoffs at this word choice.

The conversations Ana has with herself at this point leads me to question the formatting choices I’ve noticed so far. Why are Ana’s thoughts generally italicised, but – with ‘double crap’ and ‘holy cow’ – are not on this page? The voice that is speaking is simply her own at this point in the book, not that of a persona Ana has created for herself, and so the differentiation seems strange and frankly unnecessary.

Mr Grey calls her Miss Kavanagh upon meeting her but ‘Blonde Number Two’ knew her name was Steele. Did that not-so-flawless-after-all blonde forget to tell her boss a vital detail about his meeting? I worry for her job security.

In keeping with Ana’s apparent obsession with the colour of everyone’s attire – from the charcoal suit jacket of the receptionist (who should technically be Blonde Number One, making the following numbers Ana connects to her blondes incorrect) to the black and white attire of Olivia – it is highlighted that Mr Grey is of course wearing a ‘gray’ suit.

This use of the American spelling of ‘gray’ when the title, and his name, use the British spelling, immediate erases what was an effective double entendre. It has now been confirmed to anyone with the observation skills of a monkey that this book is not about the fifty shades of any colour; it’s about the fifty personalities of a particular ‘Grey’. This seems like an incredible waste of what could have actually been quite clever. This is pleasing for me because I would hate to have to admit anything in this book is clever.

Ana is apparently a monkey’s uncle. She also put her pedal to the metal earlier. Eight pages in and we’re already relying on clichés. Original ideas are for sissies.

The couch is made of leather. The relevance of this information is unfathomable.

The reason you find yourself blushing isn’t inexplicable, Ana; you are clearly attracted to this man and he is saying things to you with his ‘soft’ (and I can only assume that implies seductive) voice. The reason is not inexplicable so much as it is irrational.

Cliché count is up to three with the appearance of Ana being ‘all fingers and thumbs’. That’s a strange turn of phrase in any case; what would you like your hands to be made up of instead?

I want to criticise Ana for her inability to set up a simple voice recorder, but there is no need. Mr Grey has me covered with his snarky dialogue. Was that a compliment for this book? Careful now; I don’t want to get in the habit of being nice.

Ana asked Mr Grey if he knew what the interview was for, not because she wanted to make sure he was comfortable but because she was genuinely curious. Sitting up to ‘try and look professional’ won’t save you now, Ana; you already haven’t done your research, fell over when walking into his office, proved you can’t turn on a voice recorder, didn’t know what this interview was for and now we are discovering you didn’t even read the interview questions you were given before asking them.

Turns out the harder Mr Grey works, the more luck he seems to have. Cliché count: 4.

Given her ever increasing heart rate and the fact that Ana has now stopped breathing, I’m surprised she’s still alive at this point.

Ana takes an opportunity to make another jab at Kate for forcing her to do this interview. Every time we return to this topic I am reminded of my growing desire to slap Ana for her complete lack of agency.

I want to make a comment every time Ana blushes, squirms or uses a strange mixture of italics and roman font styles to express her inner thoughts, but if I were to do this I wouldn’t have time to talk about anything else. So just know I’m thinking bitter thoughts every time I encounter these repeated frustrations, which is frequently.

I’m concerned about Ana tucking her ‘loosened hair’ behind her ear. Perhaps she has loose hair that has escaped her loosened ponytail, but this phrase does not correctly convey that concept.

As Blonde Number Two (who should actually be Blonde Number Three and whose name we’ve just discovered is Andrea) enters the room, the blushing problem appears to become contagious.

Mr Grey refers to Ana as ‘Miss Steele’ once again and this fact seems to surprise her. I’m not altogether sure why – he’s only called her Anastasia once before and, unlike some people I could mention, he is trying to maintain an air of professionalism.

Once again Ana is uncomfortable and once again Mr Grey’s gaze is ‘penetrating’. Yes, I noticed the innuendo the first time. No, you did not have to reiterate it just in case.

Given the speed with which Mr Grey apparently switches between having the hint of a smile and a humourless expression, I’m starting to think he may be suffering from some sort of mood disorder.

Mr Grey farewells Ana with ‘“Until we meet again, Miss Steele”’ and the concept of this occurring seems to confound her. We established on a few pages ago that Mr Grey is going to be at your graduation ceremony, Ana. You might not have had the professionalism to research this fact before he told you, but he definitely told you. I was there.

As they finish their interview, Mr Grey escorts Ana to the elevator and stands with her for an awkward minute while she waits. And then, mercifully, the chapter ends.

More soon!

[Miss Mae]

Chapter Two

Ana’s heart is pounding frantically. Of course it is. I’m not sure if it has stopped pounding frantically yet. She is going to have a heart attack before this book is through, I’m sure.

Friendly reminder that the floor is made of sandstone as Ana tries not to embarrass herself further by falling over again. Also, in case you were worried, the doors are still made of glass.

Finally Ana appears to have a shred of intellect as she calls her reaction to Christian Grey (who we will now be calling Christian because I am already sick of this frustrating ‘Grey’ business) irrational.

I’m not going to comment on every pedantic issue I have with these poorly constructed sentences, but please don’t include two clauses in the same sentence that begin with ‘as I…’ because it doesn’t read correctly. This has been a friendly public service announcement.

A shiver runs down Ana’s spine. Cliché count: 5.

Again, Ana is irritated at Kate for not providing a biography of Christian before the interview. Again, I am irritated by Ana’s complete lack of agency and her apparent inability to search the web for somebody’s name.

Ana reassures herself that she never has to see Christian again and pencil-wielding me-from-the-past is as angry about this plot hole as I am. You were told he’d be at the graduation ceremony, Ana. You will definitely have to see him again. You know, provided you pass those finals that you so desperately need to study for, but not desperately enough to tell Kate to go stuff her interview.

When Ana arrives home, Kate is wearing the ‘adorable’ pink flannel pyjamas she saves for when she just broke up with a boyfriend, is ill or generally depressed. It would be easy to assume Kate must be feeling awful since she has chosen to wear her depression-pyjamas, but the following sentence has her bounding up to Ana to hug her hard. Perhaps she’ll take that hug back when she discovers how thoroughly Ana managed to botch Kate’s important interview for the student newspaper.

Ana grumpily harasses Kate for not providing her with a biography and Kate just takes it. I thought you were the tenacious one, Kate, but I’m quickly learning that you and Ana have both chosen to act as though you’re useless. What a great example for women everywhere.

I’m glad that you look at your watch and realise that you can still make your shift at work, Ana. If you couldn’t, were you planning on telling them? Your lack of professionalism never ceases to amaze me. It’s nice to know that Kate is even less professional though, as she encourages Ana to skip her shift because ‘she’ll be exhausted’. Being tired is not a good enough reason to not show up for work.

Ana works at a hardware store but is terrible at DIY. I would forgive her for this quirk if not for the fact that she goes on to say she leaves ‘all that to [her] dad’. Those gender stereotypes are my absolute favourite.

A quick conversation with her boss reveals Ana did tell them she wouldn’t be able to make it into work today but she showed up anyway. You’re lucky they needed you regardless, Ana, because what were you planning to do otherwise?

Once again Ana reiterates that she will never have to see Christian again, but this time she says it out loud to Kate. The entire reason Kate is doing an article for the student paper about Christian is because he is going to be at the graduation, but she still doesn’t correct Ana. This plot hole just continues to grow wider.

Ana’s bed is made of white iron, which is a detail I could have lived without knowing.

When Ana calls her mum, her mum asks if she’s ‘met someone’. ‘Wow… how does she do that?’ Ana asks herself in unnecessary italics. How does she do what, Ana? You interviewed a man who you were intimidated by and basically terrified of, and who you are so desperate to never have to see again that you have convinced yourself will not be at your graduation ceremony. You haven’t met someone in the way your mum is implying – you simply introduced yourself to and shook hands with another human being. That doesn’t count.

As José the photographer is introduced to us and we are given an unnecessarily detailed description of his attractive appearance, I find myself wondering why every character in this book so far has been stereotypically good-looking.

In the next paragraph, the word besieged in used twice in as many sentences and this vexes me. I understand synonyms can be useful and that besieged is a fancy word for describing how many customers are in a hardware store, but using it repeatedly does not make you sound smarter.

Last time she was at work, Ana was ‘absorbed in the task’ of restocking shelves and now she is ‘engrossed in the task’ of checking orders. She seems to really love both her job and her parallel structure.

For some reason Ana glances up at the counter – perhaps because her job is in customer service and her subconscious is trying to be professional where her conscious fails – and has ‘heart failure’ when she sees Christian standing there. And now, with Ana dead, the book abruptly ends.

No, apparently that is not the case. Is it really only page 24?

Christian’s voice is described as ‘warm and husky like dark melted chocolate fudge caramel… or something’ and I am curious whether this is supposed to be a signifier of Ana’s apparent inability to string together thoughts in a man’s presence or E L James’ inability to construct an original simile.

I know I said I would stop mentioning the pounding heart and the blushing, but my frustration at this repetition is just too fierce to let it slide.

I’m curious what it looks like to an outside observer when Ana starts shaking her head to regain her wits and having long conversations with herself in an attempt to re-establish cognitive function. People must think she’s a little slow.

Christian, having slipped into a first name basis with Ana accidentally on two occasions already and then being expressly told by Ana that he doesn’t have to call her Miss Steele anymore, continues with the formality regardless. I can only hope that there is a reason for the name he uses that is dependent upon circumstances and context, and that an interesting pattern of his choices will be revealed as the story progresses, but I feel that this optimism might be misplaced.

Because she is in the presence of a man, Ana’s heart is almost strangling her. This would be a half-decent metaphor if it wasn’t followed by a description of exactly what it means: ‘because it’s in my throat trying to escape from my mouth’. Way to ruin what was almost semi-good writing.

As Ana leads Christian to the third item on his shopping list, I wonder if she gives this special service to every customer who walks through the door or just to the ones who give her cardiac arrest.

Now Christian is calling her Anastasia again, but still not ‘Ana’ like she requested.

Christian agrees to do a photo shoot for the article in the student paper. ‘If we can find a photographer,’ Ana responds as she apparently forgets that her friend José, who was only recently introduced as the resident photographer and rival love interest, owns a camera and can apparently use it well enough to be exhibited in a gallery.

With a change of expression, Christian manages to be solely responsible for the Earth shifting on its axis and the tectonic plates sliding into a new position. Through this description, Ana continues to demonstrate her lack of understanding of how science works.

Christian is watching Ana and this new character – Paul, who is apparently another rival party who wants nothing more than Ana’s affection – like a hawk. Cliché count: 6.

The chapter draws to a close with Ana once again uncertain if she will be able to find a photographer for the photo shoot she is now supposed to be organising. I feel sorry for José, since Ana obviously considers him to be quite forgettable.

[Madonna]

I appreciate your snarky commentary. I have never read the book, but the venom with which you assail it is entertaining.

[Miss Mae]

I am enduring the pain of reading it again so that folks like you will never have to.

[Mirage]

I actually want to read these now, if I just didn't have thousands of other things higher on my priority list. It seems like your project is having the opposite effect!

In a sense, I am getting a feeling of something like "it can't possibly be this bad, can it? She must be exaggerating. I have to find out for myself".

In the end, though, there is no real danger of me reading it, as I barely even read books that are unanimously regarded as good books.

[Miss Mae]

I really, truly wish I was exaggerating.

[Miss Mae]

Chapter Three

Ana calls an ecstatic Kate and apparently even she’s not sure who they could possibly hire to take photos of Christian. When Ana finally remembers that José exists, Kate is irrationally impressed by the idea. Surely it didn’t take a genius to remember that Ana’s friend of four years is a photographer, but apparently it deserves praise and an exclamation mark. Maybe with this positive reinforcement, Ana will learn to use her brain more often.

In her maturity, Ana sticks her tongue out at her phone after Kate hangs up on her, further demonstrating to those around her that she is borderline insane.

Ana’s unprofessional nature is highlighted once again when it is revealed that she made this phone call to Kate in the stockroom of the hardware store while she was still supposed to be working.

Paul shakes his head ‘as if to clear it’. He should probably spend less time around Ana because apparently he is picking up her weird habits.

Ana’s subconscious has become personified now, raising a figurative eyebrow as she asks Ana if Christian is a literary hero. I am curious how a personified subconscious could raise an eyebrow any other way. Ana ‘slap[s] her down’ but it wasn’t specified that this was figurative. Can I assume she literally slapped herself?

Just because Kate can throw around unnecessary threats and end them with ‘capiche’ does not mean she is ‘awesomely tough’, although Ana seems to think so. I suppose anyone looks tough next to Ana.

Ana calls Christian and asks if ‘tomorrow’ is okay for the photo shoot. If you ever paid any attention to the world around you, Ana, you would have noticed that this is the day Christian suggested when the topic was first brought up.

Kate seems to be surprised that Ana is blushing, but Ana assures Kate that she blushes all the time. I’m glad somebody said it so I didn’t have to.

The marketing executive is putty in Kate’s hands. Cliché count: 7.

Ana rolls her eyes at how ‘domineering’ Kate can be, responding to her orders with an unnecessarily italicised ‘Yes, mistress’. The lack of subtlety in that foreshadowing makes me laugh aloud.

Kate is described as tenacious again and I wonder if E L James had lost her thesaurus at this point.

José looks at Christian with cool eyes, and with that Christian has officially met both of his rivals for Ana’s affection. For somebody who hasn’t had a boyfriend, Ana sure does get a lot of attention from the men in her life.

Christian sits and poses for photographs for about twenty minutes. How many photos does one article in a student newspaper need? Apparently more, because Kate then decides she has enough photos of Christian sitting and would like some more where he is standing.

There’s a strange combination of italicised and roman styles as Ana argues with herself about whether or not being asked to join Christian for coffee counts as a date.

I hope Ana stops documenting the ‘current’ she feels every time Christian touches her, or else I’m going to have to add that to the growing list of frustratingly repetitive phrases in this book.

The pair leaves the lobby and for once I am left feeling curious about what materials were used in its construction.

Don’t worry. I’m lying. I don’t care at all.

Christian gives Ana the task of finding a table while he gets the drinks. Although usually she can’t help but give significantly more information about her actions than is necessary, Ana leaves out the part of the narration where she does as she was asked. When Christian returns there is magically a table for him to place the drinks on. But at least we know the table is small, round and birch-veneer. That’s vital to the plot.

Ana is seduced by the fact that Christian accidentally ordered her favourite tea.

Christian quizzes Ana about both of his rivals – José and Paul – and she confirms that she has feelings for neither. Say goodbye to what little tension there was around that character dynamic.

E L James appears to have relocated her thesaurus, with Ana’s frequent blushes and flushes having been described as ‘beet red’, ‘pink’, ‘crimson’ and ‘scarlet’ over the last few pages.

Christian makes the observation that Ana blushes frequently. I wonder if there has been a time when Ana hasn’t been blushing in Christian’s presence yet. I honestly think it would be easier for Ana to simply tell us when she isn’t blushing, because I feel like that would come up less often.

The topic of conversation dies and Christian rekindles it with a new question. ‘Whoa,’ Ana says, as though this change is too sudden for her simple mind to comprehend. She appears to have missed the memo early in life that explained how conversation works.

Ana tells Christian about her mum, and more specifically her mum’s four husbands. She goes into detail about the most recent husband, but when Christian asks if she gets along with her stepfather Ana immediately starts talking about her mum’s second husband – the one who helped raise her. Husbands two, three and four are all your stepfathers, Ana, so why would you talk about this one specifically? Christian has no idea about your family dynamic, so why would he be asking about any husband other than the one you were already talking about?

Christian discusses his siblings – specifically one who is studying with a chef in Paris. ‘“I hear Paris is lovely,”’ Ana says. Immediately Christian wants to know if Ana has been. If she had been to Paris, she would probably have her own opinions about the place rather than simply stating what she has ‘heard’, don’t you think, Christian?

Christian then asks if Ana would like to go to Paris. ‘Who wouldn’t want to go to Paris?’ she ponders. She needs to get out more, as I know a lot of people who wouldn’t want to go to Paris.

Ana trips again; this time into traffic.

The chapter ends as Ana realises for the first time in her life that kissing is a thing people do for fun.

[maybee]

Oh my gosh, I've read better smutty fanfiction.


Keep it up the review ! It's amazing, and your writing skills are excellent ! ( unlike the book )

[Parker]

i want to read this book now because I think it sounds fun to read how bad it is

[Miss Mae]

50 Shades started out as Twilight fanfic that someone decided to turn into a three-part novel series that somehow made a butt ton of money. Of all the fanfics they could've picked, I'll never understand why they chose this one.

But thanks for the compliment.

[The Man]

oh jesus this book sounds even worse than i imagined it being

on the other hand this sporking is hilarious. keep it up

[Miss Mae]

With all this encouragement and stroking of my ego, I might actually finish this project rather than send it to the writing graveyard once I'm halfway through it.

[Parker]

yess

[Jinx]

omg alayna, you are a treasure.