This is it, y’all! The last post about Darker, the rewrite of the second Fifty Shades book from Christian’s perspective. It’s over! Well, it will be over in almost 3000 words. A lot happened. In this book we already read once.
Previously, I guess something happened in this book? Fuck if I know. It was like 500 pages of Christian having lots of money and pressuring Ana into agreeing to marry him. Christian’s family is also throwing him a birthday party just in time for the climax. Hopefully nobody has any shocking secrets that could dramatically get out.
Darker: Chapter 10 (Part 4)
SATURDAY, JUNE 18, 2011
Christian smells a cake that Ana’s baking him, which triggers a flashback in which… he does not smell a cake. Seems about average for this book.
I bend to sniff it and my mouth waters. I close my eyes and a memory of the crack whore resurfaces. […]
Mommy [is] with a man. A big man with a big beard. I don’t know him.
“Not now, Maggot. Mommy has company. Go play in your room with your cars. I’ll bake you a cake when I’m done.”
She closes her bedroom door.
E L James’ grasp on cause and effect might be more tenuous than her grasp on what BDSM is.
when you roll a 1 on an investigation check pic.twitter.com/w9aYGeXb6X
— miski (@miskiart) January 22, 2018
Christian organizes a real, romantic proposal for Ana, and meets with a ring guy. He chooses “not the biggest”, “not the smallest”, but “the finest and most elegant ring”, which is a great reminder that any sentence in which every adjective ends with “-est” or has “most” in front of it now automatically sounds like Donald Trump said it. Also idk why the smallest was even in the running.
Ana gives Christian his cake, which he tells her “smelled delicious, evocative even, while it was baking” because almost everything in Christian Grey’s world can be framed in terms of how hard it gets him. He blows out the candles and tells the reader that he wishes “that Ana will always love me. And never leave me”, because everything else in Christian’s world is about control. Even his generosity is really just about control:
Ana turns to me. “There was an additional fifty thousand dollars in my bank account this afternoon.” […]
“Ana, you’re going to be my wife. Please. Let’s not fight about this.”
She takes a deep breath and is silent for a while […] “Okay,” she says. “Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.”
I breathe a sigh of relief.
See, that wasn’t so hard, was it Ana?
See, his love for Ana isn’t even really about Ana so much as it is about wearing her down to accept the exact way he wants to demonstrate his love.
On Monday, I’ll take care of your student loans.
Every millennial reading this blog briefly, in a panic, reconsiders if Christian is hot.
Christian and Ana arrive at his birthday party and are immediately confronted by Kate Kavanagh, who I always forget is a character in this story. She pulls them aside into an empty room and angrily confronts them with a copy of their very early emails about the dom-sub contract. Ana immediately tells Kate that this is none of her business, and a very confused and concerned Kate tries to get reassurance that Ana is ok. Christian doesn’t help.
“Ignore it?” she says. “How can I ignore that? What’s he done to you?”
“He hasn’t done anything to me, Kate. Honestly—I’m good.”
“Really?” she asks.
For fuck’s sake.
I wrap my arm around Ana and stare at Katherine, trying and probably failing to keep the animosity out of my expression. “Ana has consented to be my wife, Katherine.”
“Wife!” she exclaims, her eyes widening in disbelief. […] “I leave you alone for sixteen days, and this happens?”
The characters in Fifty Shades reacting to how little time passes in Fifty Shades has more verisimilitude than any of the romance in Fifty Shades. Only just barely, though. Imagine someone actually getting engaged to a dude they met, like, earlier that summer and just ending the conversation at “I can’t believe how fast that was!”
Ana convinces Kate that she’s really, truly, really 4 realz ok. Christian reminds us that women are annoying.
“I didn’t know what to think. I’m sorry. If you’re happy, then I’m happy.” Katherine looks at me. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude.”
I give her a nod. Maybe she does care about Ana, but how Elliot puts up with her I’ll never know.
I guess the best thing I can say about what I’ve learned about Christian Grey from reading these rewrites from his perspective is that at least he keeps his mouth shut now and then.
They finally go back to the party and Christian is surprised how many people are there. I try to remember who half of these fucking people are.
Why so many people? My family. Kavanagh’s brother, Flynn and his wife. Mac! Bastille. Mia’s friend Lily and her mother. Ros and Gwen. Elena.
Why is Christian’s boat guy the only one who gets an exclamation mark?
Elena immediately tries to talk to Christian but he blows her off because he has to make an announcement, then tells the room that “Miss Anastasia Rose Steele, has consented to be my wife”. I’m glad that Fifty Shades takes consent so seriously (more so than if a dude wrote this book, if we’re being real), but gosh, “has consented to be my wife” is some interesting phrasing. Not that anyone has ever pretended that the writing is one of the series’ strengths:
“That was one googly you bowled there, Christian.” Flynn shakes his head in amused disbelief.
What?
“John—you and your cricket metaphors.” Rhian scolds him
Ok, I wanna pitch something. If your dialogue tries to naturally show-not-tell something that’s tricky to otherwise convey about a character, such as “is British”, but is so out of place that it makes just as little sense if you swap it out with a more timely pop culture reference, like, say…
“That was one Cheeky Nando’s there, Christian, you absolute legend.” Flynn shakes his head in amused disbelief.
What?
…maybe it wasn’t all that natural.
Really, this is ridiculous enough dialogue that it might be time to bring back an old favorite. It’s time for BUT WHAT IF OTHER BOOKS WERE WRITTEN THIS WAY
- “Harry, you did it! That Voldemort sure was a right bludger but that was one Wronski Feint you pulled off!”
“Ron–you and your quidditch metaphors.” Hermione scolded him. - “Always, at every moment, there will be the thrill of victory, the sensation of trampling on an enemy who is helpless. If you want a picture of the future, imagine a bootball being rammeled by the left quick fielder in the bottom of the fifth skillscrum.”
“O’brien–you and your futuresports metaphors!” Winston scolded him. - “My father made he an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
“What was that?”
“Well it wasn’t a decision between a cannoli or a buccellato, if you know what I mean.”
“Michael–you and your references to Sicilian things that make no sense to bring up in this context except to abrasively remind the reader that you’re Sicilian!”
Dr. Flynn’s wife, Rian, meets Ana and says that she’s “delighted to meet the woman who has finally captured Christian’s heart”, which doesn’t imply a huge doctor-patient confidentiality violation at all. Nobody seems to think it’s really fucking weird that Christian’s therapist was invited to his birthday party.
Later on in the party, Christian loses track of Ana and finds her in a room screaming at Elena that “When will you learn? It’s none of your goddamned business!” Christian enters the room and Elena appeals to him directly, telling him that Ana’s not right for him. After an entire book where Elena’s subplot has just been “get blown off by Christian Grey over and over again”, Christian finally gets that maybe this isn’t a friendship worth preserving.
Elena’s expression hardens, her eyes like flint. She stands taller and steps toward me. “I was the best thing that ever happened to you,” she hisses, with unrestrained arrogance. “Look at you now. One of the richest, most successful entrepreneurs in the United States. […] I taught you everything you know, everything you need.”
I cannot remember a time when I’ve felt such rage. “You taught me how to fuck, Elena. But it’s empty, like you. No wonder Linc left.”
“You never once held me. You never once said you loved me.”
Her ice-blue eyes narrow. “Love is for fools, Christian.”
THEN. WHAT. ARE. YOU. EVEN. TRYING. TO. DO. HERE. WHAT. IS. YOUR. CHARACTER. MOTIVATION.
“Get out of my house,” Grace commands in a cold fury.
Oh, shit! Christian Grey’s mom heard everything with this fight between her son and her best friend about how they used to fuck! Christian, we’re reading this scene from your point of view now! I bet there’s a ton going through your head right now!
Fuck. Mom!
I guess maybe there’s not!
His mom kicks everyone out and confronts Christian alone. Yes, “confronts”. She just connected the dots and learned that her son is a victim of statutory rape. It sure is… a decision…
Mom glowers at me, saying nothing, looking at me as though she’s seeing me for the first time.
Seeing the monster she reared but did not create.
So this gets… pretty bad…
“How old were you?”
I swallow and my heart rate accelerates like a Formula One engine.
It’s also written badly, but that’s nothing new. What’s insane is that Christian’s mom is victim-blaming the shit out of him.
“Sixteen,” I whisper.
She narrows her eyes and cocks her head to one side.
“Try again.” Her voice is chillingly quiet.
Hell. How does she know?
“Christian,” she warns, prompting me.
WHY IS THIS SO HOSTILE WHY IS THIS NECESSARY
“Fifteen.”
She closes her eyes like I’ve stabbed her, her hand flying to her mouth as she stifles a sob. […]
“Christian. I am so mad at you right now. I suggest you don’t come any closer. […] Words fail me, Christian. Fail me. Where did I go wrong?”
Yeah, uh, I’d suggest that where you went wrong was here, in this moment, where you learned about his trauma and angrily told him it was his own damn fault for accepting an adult’s proposition for sex when he was a fifteen-year-old boy. Perhaps there?
Because I feel the need to point this out every now and then, just because a character does bad things doesn’t make the story itself “bad”. People in stories should be allowed to cause damage with their mistakes. What makes the story bad is if the book doesn’t understand that this is damage:
“Yes, you should look shamefaced. How long did this go on for? How long did you lie to us, Christian? […] I’ve already thought you dead this week, and now this,” she sobs.
Hooooooooooooly fuck. I mean, if this were a smarter book, maybe this – “this” meaning that Christian’s mom is conflating learning that her son is a victim of statutory rape with learning that he died – could be saying something about how victim blaming in our society is such a huge problem that not even a man as powerful as Christian Grey can come forward and not have his victimhood turned into his own fault. It’s almost saying, “See? Even Christian Grey’s mom is basically doing the ‘but you were asking for it’ fallacy.”
But this isn’t that book. It isn’t saying anything, at least not intentionally. This book has shown time and time again that Christian uses his power and privilege to be a predator himself, and it never condemns him for it. Instead it rewards him with a perfect, pure virgin girl who loves him unconditionally. What it does condemn him for is turning to Fucked Up sex because he is Fucked Up and if only he had a good woman to turn him towards the light then that sure would fix all his emotional trauma.
No, seriously, that’s the message.
“Does Ana know?”
“Yes, she does.”
“Good. […] I’d be interested to hear what she thinks of Elena.”
“She’s kind of in your camp.”
“Sensible girl. You’ve fallen on your feet with her, at least.”
Because everything in this series pretty much boils down to a moral judgment based on binary of whether you’re boning for love or boning for DEPRAVED SEX-REASONS.
“A lovely young woman who’s the right age.”
WHY IS CHRISTIAN’S MOM SAYING THAT A 21-YEAR-OLD IS “THE RIGHT AGE” FOR HER 28-YEAR-OLD SON? I’m saying this as someone who was Ana’s age when these books first came out and is now almost Christian’s age: Christian Grey’s mom, we need to have a talk.
Christian’s mom demands that Christian cut off all business ties with Elena, which results in this conversation, because even at its victim-blaming worst, it’s hard to notice how distractingly absurd it is that every conversation in Fifty Shades is between robots who might not reliably pass the Turing Test.
“you can be sure she’ll never set foot in this house again.” She presses her lips together in determination. “And you should cease all contact with her.”
“Mom, um…Elena and I run a very successful business together.” […]
“You are to end it with Elena. Cut all ties. You understand?”
“Yes, Mom. I could do that as a wedding present to Anastasia.”
“What? Are you crazy? You’d better think of something else! That’s hardly romantic, Christian,” she scolds.
“I thought she’d like that.”
“Honestly, men! You have no idea sometimes.”
The scene finally ends with Christian’s mom finally saying something comforting, telling him that “I’m upset […] because she abused you, darling. And you are so deserving of love. […] You always have been.” Which E L James maybe could have had her start with, but whatever, I’m sure this is still very convincing after telling someone that their sexual trauma is their own fault.
And with E L James having Christian think something laughably short of real feelings.
Shit. That was heavy.
Although – say it with me this time – the writing has never been a strength of this series.
“Hey, bro, want a beer?” Elliot asks.
I think every conversation Elliot’s been in in this book has included either the word “bro” or “beer”, usually both. Guess this book doesn’t pass the Bech-Bro Te- sorry, I need to delete every word I’ve ever written on the internet now.
Christian meets up with Ana and recaps his conversation with his mom and the end of his relationship with Elena. She asks him how he feels and he says at least he feels “liberated”. We cut ahead to the end of the party after all the guests leave and it’s just the immediate family left, featuring Christian’s mom “murdering ‘I Will Survive’ on the Karaoke machine”, because E L James has no comprehension of subtlety.
Christian leads Ana off to the boathouse where he has his romantic re-proposal planned. We’re almost fucking done, you guys. Let’s just pretend we care about Christian and Ana’s romance for five more seconds and get this over with. Until the next book we’ve already read before comes out.
The florists have gone to town. There are wild meadow flowers everywhere, in pinks and whites and blues, all lit by tiny fairy lights and soft pink lanterns. […]
“You wanted hearts and flowers.”
She stares at me in disbelief.
“You have my heart.” And I wave at the room.
“And here are the flowers,” she murmurs.
Not pictured: Christian clasps his hands and goes “here is the steeple”, then Ana flips his hands around and says “here’s all the people”.
Taking her hand, I slip the ring on her finger; it fits perfectly.
She looks down at it in wonder. “Oh, Christian,” she sobs, her legs buckle and she falls into my arms. She kisses me, offering me everything, her lips, her tongue, her compassion, her love. […] Giving, like she always does.
Boy does she ever.
This woman who has dragged me into the light. This woman who loves me in spite of my past, in spite of my wrongdoings. This woman who’s agreed to be mine for the rest of her life.
My girl. My Ana. My love.
Once more, with feeling: because the only thing the story does condemn him for is turning to Fucked Up sex because he is Fucked Up and if only he had a good woman to turn him towards the light then that sure would fix all his emotional trauma.
No, seriously, that’s the message.