We could be starving, we could be homeless, AND we could be broke, and I would still love you, probably for the same reason that I don't see the relation of those three conditions. 

What Fifty Shades of Grey Is Telling Readers

Fifty Shades of Grey. Unless you’ve spent your summer under a rock, I’m going to assume you’ve heard of it, though not as an astounding work of literature. If the average person was presented with the first page of the James’ novel, it would be easy (I hope, in an incredibly optimistic view of our national literacy rate) for said reader to immediately grasp a single fact about E.L. James’ work: its genesis has not done it any favors. Which is to say, of course, that a novel first published online and even now in published in print hasn’t been graced with the skills of a professional editor. Perhaps, under the criticism and therefore tutelage of any editorial giant, James would have ameliorated what are the easily spotted as the greatest (technical) errors of her work:

The woefully thinly veiled reference to Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight:

"I'm not afraid. Thankfully, my character isn't developed enough."

And, even worse than that of the Twilight series itself, the E. L. James appears to have written the next bloody chapter in the war on grammar and syntax.

Seriously, how can anyone concentrate on the sex scenes with all that bad grammar?

However, it is those things that make E.L. James’ work a target. And you know what? That’s not the target I’m going for. Like it or not (and I most definitely do not) Fifty Shades of Grey is a novel that has already made an impact on our national psyche. Deny it all you want, but I know it’s certainly scarred my psyche; I have at long last lost all respect for the New York Times bestseller list. At this point in time, every sign indicates that Fifty Shades of Grey is here to stay, and it’s at this very stage that we should find it in ourselves to cease criticizing James’ torture of the English language. Instead, it’s we should analyze whether the effect of James’ work perpetuates negative or positive messages by proxy of its characters – if for nothing else, to prove that we can be mature readers even if there’s a significant lack of mature writers. To criticize those already obvious errors that riddle Fifty Shades of Grey is a distraction from the greater purpose and depth of James’ intent, and (come on, people) gives us an easy way out. Challenge yourself to ask: What does James’ Fifty Shades of Grey tell the reader?  And once we have determined that: What is gained (or lost) by reception of James’ perceived viewpoint?

Here are some (brief) summarizations of James’ intent as characterized by her main character, Anastasia Steele. You’ll notice, I hope, that I said “main character” instead of “heroine.” There’s a reason for that, which leads us to our first summarization of What Fifty Shades of Grey Tells Us:

1)      Emotional and Physical Dependency is a key aspect of any relationship, especially relationships between men and women

Any way you slice it, Anastasia’s supposed romance with Christian is bound (har har har) to her dependency on him. Anastasia doesn’t just want Christian Grey sexually. She needs him emotionally, and is constantly, brutally rebuffed. It is this very combination of neediness from Anastasia and emotional/sexual distance from Christian which means that Anastasia’s relationship with Christian is emotionally abusive.

Adrenaline has spiked through my body, from my near miss with the cyclist to the heady proximity to Christian, leaving me wired and weak. NO! my psyche screams as he pulls away, leaving me bereft. He has his hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length, carefully watching my reactions. And the only thing I can thinks it that I wanted to be kissed, made it pretty damned obvious, and he didn’t do it. He doesn’t want me. He really doesn’t want me. I have royally screwed up the coffee morning (50).

A few pages later, we find Ana crying in a parking garage because of this incident, as she wished to be kissed by Christian and he did not take the masculine initiative to do so. Take a note, James’ BDSM material hasn’t even entered into this equation (whether it should or should not is another, more complex argument). With Anastasia as a main character, James attempts to “normalize”  behavior, indicating that Anastasia’s dependency on Christian, her emotional responses (crying, anxiety, outpourings of sorrow) and psychological responses (guilt, self-blame) make sense and are to be expected in a relationship, especially if one is lucky to have a relationship with Christian Grey.

Damaging themes run throughout Fifty Shades of Grey, and to call them out without justification feels like yet another cop-out. Fifty Shades of Grey is not a complex book, but it presents themes that call for an incredibly complex analysis of both James’ intent and the readers’ assumption. Thus, simply choosing a fact that to the seasoned reader should appear fairly obvious (James seeks to normalize the emotionally abusive relationship) is positively childs-play. But critically examining that fact (what is gained (or lost) by James’ viewpoint?) is much more nebulous. 

Is this a gain? Women looking for men who act like Christian Grey?

As a result, I was not challenged by reading Fifty Shades of Grey, yet I have been challenged here by what damaging theme to push to the forefront of analysis. The normalization of emotionally abusive relationships eventually was the dubious winner of the contest, perhaps because it is the most visible of the issues, but I’m not sure that prioritizing it is fair. After all, how to choose between that theme and the themes of homophobia, physical abuse, emphasis on purity/corruption, and antifeminism? There is, unfortunately, no right answer, as James' characters of Fifty Shades of Grey seek to systematically legitimize each.

Thoughts? Requests for the next theme for analysis? Post them in the comments section below.

Glee's True Colors and The Performance of Sexuality

Let’s think about Glee for a minute. I’ve loved the show, always have – I like to think of it as America’s guilty pleasure, because I also like to have confidence in the intelligence of the average citizen. But lately, I can’t keep my critical eye off of those characters with which Ryan Murphy populates McKinley High. Apart from the fact that the average age of the Glee club cast is about 23, Glee is well known for its representation of subcultures and countercultures, and I think that unfortunately we’re so proud of Glee for showing all ages a demographically representative portion of America, complete with Latinos, African-Americans, and Asians, and presenting a generally positive and radical (for television) view of homosexual relationships, we forget that there’s some prime examples of racism and, for lack of a better word, “closemindedness” going on. Early Glee discussed race and sexuality in a feel-good atmosphere that assumed that high school was a safe place to practice identity:

But now, Glee is beyond the whole "true colors" feel-good representations of gender and sexuality. And there were quite a few oversights of the two in a recent episode. The episode I refer to is the disco-themed “Saturday Night Glee-ver,” where, among other things, the majority of the characters continue to be conflicted about their future and sing out their stress through a variety of disco songs that prove to us: 



Yes, Puck. Yes, it does. We thought those dark times were behind us.

First of all, what’s with this representation of transgender Wade (played by the Glee Project’s Alex Newell)? In case you’ve forgotten, Wade wants to perform a song while dressed as his “alter ego,” Unique (let’s look over the fact that the Glee writers have chosen a stripper name for Wade’s character; while the name might actually have some relevance and carry an important message, it hardly presents an accurate image of a transgender’s individual’s decision to change their name to someone who they really feel that they are inside. Point in case: Chastity Bono to Chaz Bono. The name of Unique diminishes the seriousness of Wade’s decision). The Glee characters try to discourage Wade from performing as Unique, which they feel is perfectly reasonable: as Kurt says, “It is Ohio.”

"Thankfully, though, it's okay for me to be a unicorn!"

But despite their doubts, Kurt and Mercedes are just students, so by the logic of the television show, adult Sue is free to bully everybody into submission. Wade performs as Unique anyway.

Here’s the problem, though. What is at risk with the way that the Glee producers have chosen to show Unique? To begin with, there’s the shock that the characters feel that Unique “actually looks like a woman.” And Unique doesn’t just look like a woman – she sings like a woman, passes as a woman, “fools” the audience.

And so the message here might be, it’s okay that Unique performs, because Unique does pass as a woman. If Unique looked more male, then, connotatively, her decision to dress up in drag would have been condemned. But in performing the female gender in a convincing way, everything is okay because Unique can, in fact, “fool” an audience into accepting a gender identity counter to the one biologically assigned to her. Thus, Unique is made palatable to the Glee audience because they do not know her biologically assigned sex, and made palatable to us as viewers because the gender she wishes to be is flawlessly performed. It’s a little disappointing, isn’t it?
Maybe I should be more understanding of the fact that at least Glee's writers trying to present a transgender characters to audiences. But the matter of representing a character like Unique isn't to be taken lightly, even in a show meant to be light entertainment.