Non-Stop Non-Erotic Cabaret: Fifty Shades of Grey Chaper Twenty-Five

I almost finished reading this book last week, thinking I was on the last chapter, but then I discovered that this was the second last chapter, immediately went “fuck this” and stopped reading it. But then I had to read it earlier today so I could write this. Also, I’m totally sober this time. Let’s get down to business.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Presumably, this is Ana’s mom’s last scene in the book, since Ana’s going back to Seattle. This makes me sad, because once she’s gone, there are no characters I even particularly like making fun of anymore.

“Follow your heart, darling, and please, please – try not to overthink things. Relax and enjoy yourself. You are so young, sweetheart. You have so much of life to experience yet, just let it happen. You deserve the best of everything […] Darling, you know what they say. You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.”

Oh man, Ana’s mom never disappoints! Seriously, it’s like E L James got here, thought “Okay! Motivational speech time!” and just winged it, because HAHA what’s even going on here?

We leave Ana’s mom forever (BOO) and Christian still seems in a bad mood because of the mysterious situation, Taylor doesn’t slip any details about the situation, even though Ana tries, like, really hard to get some information out of him.

“How’s Christian, Taylor?”
“Mr. Grey is preoccupied, Miss Steele.”
Oh, this must be “the situation.” I am mining a seam of gold.
“Preoccupied?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I frown at Taylor

Aw, she almost had him! Don’t worry, Ana. I’m sure even Sherlock Holmes could read this book and not figure it out either.

Oh, well. Maybe Detective Ana’s mental prowess is being put to solving other mysteries.

The sex is amazing, he’s wealthy, he’s beautiful, but this is all meaningless without his love, and the real heart-fail is that I don’t know if he’s capable of love. He doesn’t even love himself.

We’re gonna step away from the funny funny jokes for just a moment here to take a look at this train of thought, because this is an interesting one. On the one hand, it hints at something that could have been a much, much better novel than Fifty Shades of Grey, because, hey, there could be a story worth telling in here. On the other hand, it highlights why Fifty Shades isn’t that story. Ana’s known Christian for, what, two weeks, and suddenly nothing but his undying love is good enough? More importantly, why does Ana feel like this? All she says before demanding his unconditional love is that it’s because he’s rich, good-looking, and good in bed. Yep! Sounds like you’ve really found your soul mate there, Ana!

Okay. I’m done breaking down why the writing in this book is bad. Let’s make fun of shit. What happens when Ana gets back to Christian’s apartment?

My mouth goes dry and desire blooms in my body … whoa.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Let’s just skip to the end of the sex scene and see what happens there.

He lets go with a deep growl, and he buries his head in my neck as he buries himself inside me, groaning loudly and incoherently as he finds his release.

But wait! We immediately go into another sex scene! Hopefully you aren’t too hot and bothered by Ana’s longing “whoa“s and Christian’s lasciviously carnal incoherent noises! You aren’t? Well, that’s weird. Here, let’s talk about Ana’s new employment to get you in the mood!

He looks down at me as he undoes the last button, slips my blouse down my arms, and throws it on top of his discarded clothes.
“I have a job.”

Ana’s pillow talk soon gets even better when she asks Christian if he wants to go to the art show of the guy who sexually assaulted her that one time!

No seriously.

“My friend Jose’s photography show is opening Thursday in Portland.”
He stills, his hands hovering over my breasts.

Note that in neither of those two examples did I excise any text. This is the exact sequence of events in this novel. The first one’s not bad, in so far as it is good news and doesn’t actively detract from the mood, like the second one, where they are actually naked, Christian’s totally about to grab some boob, and then Ana decides that’s a perfectly good time to try to schedule some hangouts with, and I really feel that I can’t stress this point enough, someone who sexually assaulted her in a bar.

Notably, the current sex scene ends before the sex even starts. Even E L James is sick of this book by now.

Anyway, ready for some legit BDSM finally? Of course you are! You don’t actually have to read it!

“I am going to tie you to that bed, Anastasia. But I’m going to blindfold you first and,” he reveals his iPod in his hand, “you will not be able to hear me. All you will hear is the music I am going to play for you.”
[…] Jeez, I hope it’s not rap.

“Come.” Taking my hand, he leads me over to the antique four-poster bed. There are shackles attached at each corner, fine metal chains with leather cuffs, glinting against the red satin.
Oh boy, I think my heart is going to jump out of my chest, and I’m melting from the inside out, desire coursing through me. Could I be any more excited?

Just in case we get too excited, there’s another two pages explaining the sex scene about to take place before it even happens, because nothing sets the mood quite like explaining how the room’s stereo system works before sexy times. Although we do get this gem when the novel feels the need to explain a remote control to us:

He smirks his private-joke smile and holds up a small, flat device that looks like a very hip calculator.

I don’t even know where to start with this. That apparently we need the concept of a remote explained to us, that it’s described as something that looks like a calculator, or that it’s described as “hip”.

So then the sex starts (See how boring this is? I can’t get any more enthusiastic about describing this scene than “so then the sex starts”). Ana’s shackled to all four corners of the bed, blindfolded, and listening to choir music. No, really. Christian puts on “Spem In Alium”, and you tell me if you could have sex to this with a straight face.

Christian strokes her with a fur glove, then strikes her with a flogger, and here are her thoughts on that:

as my skin sings with each blow in perfect counterpoint to the music in my head, I am dragged into a dark, dark part of my psyche that surrenders to this most erotic sensation

Honestly? I’m kind of impressed by this line. It’s still hilariously way way over the top, but we finally have a sex scene that is described to us and not told to us, like the ever-popular “holy hell, this is erotic”. And to think it only took 491 pages!

Oh my God, I’ve almost read five hundred pages of this? See you all on Friday, everyone. I’m gonna go walk into traffic.

(For extra fun, play both of the videos in this post at the same time. It is… an experience.)