Fifty Writers on Fifty Shades of Grey (23 page)

SUSAN WRIGHT

F
IFTY SHADES OF GREY
combines three of my favorite things: it’s a romance novel with kinky sex that caught the attention of the media. I’ve been tracking the media coverage of alternative sexuality since 1997, when I started the National Coalition for Sexual Freedom, working to de-stigmatize BDSM and helping people who have been hurt by the negative stereotypes associated with kinky sex.

Suddenly now everyone is talking about BDSM because of
Fifty Shades of Grey
. Reviewers typically describe the book like this: “Ana is a young woman who signs a contract with the wealthy Grey, who controls everything from when she exercises to what she eats.” But that’s not true—Ana never signs the contract. It’s simply introduced as the first step of the extended dance they do with each other.

Much of the tension in the book is created by the characters’ desire for each other without a desire for the kind of relationship
the other wants. Grey wants a formalized relationship where each person maintains a certain role in their power exchange, while Ana wants a “hearts and flowers” romantic relationship. They set hard limits for themselves while also compromising and doing certain things to fulfill each other’s needs. That’s what makes it so hot. A couple talking to each other about their deepest desires? Who doesn’t want more of that?

That’s why so many women are responding so enthusiastically. There
is
a way to get the amazing sex you want, and it actually involves talking about it. One of the easiest ways to get that conversation going is to show your sex partner a book and say, “Hey, check out this scene.” That way you don’t have to say, “I’d like to try bondage and a blindfold tonight, dear.” Instead you can indicate interest in the activity through the characters, and that way if your partner dismisses the idea, it’s not you personally they’re rejecting.

We’ve been led to believe for too long that great sex happens magically. That there’s no need to tell your partner what you really want because, if you’re really meant to be together, somehow they’ll already know.

But in
Fifty Shades
, instead of the spontaneous, rock-your-world sex that you get from typical romance novels, Ana and Christian email, text, and talk about what kind of sex they want. Neither expects the other to be a mind reader.
Fifty Shades Darker
begins with Christian asking Ana why she didn’t use her safeword if she didn’t like the intense spanking he was giving her. He points out that he can’t trust her if she won’t communicate with him. That’s why they talk after each scene to make sure they both understand how the other felt about what happened.

These characters explore their feelings and desires with each other in a way that is very typical of real kinky people. When you’re playing sex games, you have to lay out the rules and set the boundaries together in order to be on the same playing field. Playing with power and intense sensations, as you do in BDSM,
requires trust, communication, and honesty, and that creates true intimacy. From there, you can go anywhere together.

Unfortunately talking about sex makes many people uncomfortable. We aren’t taught how to talk about sex, so when anyone tries to speak up publicly, they usually get shushed. Consider the fact that
Fifty Shades of Grey
was banned from libraries in several counties in America. Other romance novels—notably the paranormal romances written by Laurel K. Hamilton and J.R. Ward—include graphic kinky sex. So why was
Fifty Shades
treated differently?

The content of
Fifty Shades
didn’t get it banned; its reputation got it banned.
Fifty Shades
has gotten the mainstream media trumpeting about BDSM in an unprecedented way, so social conservatives have made their own statement by refusing to acknowledge the book despite the big demand for it. Libraries should encourage more reading—yet when it comes to sex, politics triumphs over good sense once again.

A few people, like Dr. Drew Pinsky, question this sudden public interest in Domination and submission, and fear where it will lead. They claim BDSM is “violence” (which it’s not) and people must be protected from it—even though everyone in America is free to skydive, rock climb, and play football, all of which cause far more physical harm than BDSM.

The people who don’t get BDSM want to know
why
we do it. They figure it must come from some kind of cultural imprinting of the patriarchy or be a rebellion against the pressures of work and family or even some kind of emotional or mental health issue. There are fears that women, in particular submissive women, who enjoy BDSM are suffering from self-hate or insecurity, or are victims of abuse.

In actuality, some people are just hardwired for more intensity with their sex, whether that intensity is emotional, mental, or physical. We take the symbols that exist around us and use them to heighten our erotic response. And coincidentally, by working with your partner to get to these more intense places,
you build an incredible trust and acceptance that goes beyond the mere physical.

Some people will never want to surrender themselves sexually, and some people will never want to dominate another person sexually, but a significant number of people do enjoy BDSM. We shouldn’t be shamed or told our choices aren’t contributing to the enlightenment of humanity. Sex is a powerful drive and ignoring or subverting it throws everything else out of whack. It’s hard to be a powerful person when you’re busy denying who you are.

So why is kinky sex still taboo? The persecution is so pervasive that I conducted two surveys in cooperation with the National Coalition for Sexual Freedom (
www.ncsfreedom.org
) to find out exactly how widespread it was. We had 1,000 respondents in 1998 and 3,000 in 2008 and found that one in three kinky people have been attacked or discriminated against because of their sexuality. Some people lose their jobs because of their sexual behavior in their private lives; others lose custody of their kids. Some people are shunned by their family and friends because they’re having kinky sex with consenting adults. Others have been shamed by their doctors and their therapists.

Even law enforcement officials have discriminated against BDSM practitioners, prompting 90 percent of the respondents who reported they had been the victim of persecution to
not
report the crime for fear of additional persecution. As one survey respondent said, “I was sexually assaulted and because I was engaged in SM, my claim was not taken seriously and I was blamed for the incident. In the SM community, ‘no’ still means ‘no.’ People do not understand that.”

Kinky people are caught in a catch-22: sex sells, so we are saturated with sexual images in the media, yet our roots in the Puritan culture lead to sexual repression. We have a tendency to judge other people to determine if they’re doing right or wrong according to our own personal choices. Some religious political extremists have a self-righteous belief that theirs is the only true
way to live. Those people work very hard to stop BDSM educational and social groups, to shut down events and prevent other adults from accessing one of the few places where you can safely explore your sexuality.

And yes, this kind of discrimination is also proof that we are living in a patriarchal society, one that is accustomed to controlling sexuality, usually women’s sexuality, most recently demonstrated in the fight around reproductive health rights. Men are allowed more sexual freedom—unless you’re a gay or bisexual man, in which case you’re fair game for any kind of abuse.

But when it comes right down to it, as long as your sexual behavior involves consenting adults, how you express your sexuality is nobody else’s business. We need to grow up and be responsible about our own sexual choices, and this national discussion is a good step. Anything that gets people talking about sex—not just sensationalizing it or making fun of it—is a good thing for Americans. We can see from the reaction to
Fifty Shades of Grey
that people are eager to explore their sexuality.

This may be BDSM’s Stonewall, our breakthrough to the mainstream and greater understanding. Who would have thought it would take Twilight fanfiction to get us here?

RYAN FIELD

T
HERE’S AN INTERESTING STORY behind how I discovered
Fifty Shades of Grey
. It wasn’t at a pool party, like the one I attended a few weeks ago where
Fifty Shades
was the topic of conversation among half the guests during dinner. It wasn’t at the supermarket, where I ran into someone who was reading
Fifty Shades
and asked me if I’d read it because he knows I write erotic fiction. And it wasn’t at a graduation, where some of the guests were whispering and giggling about this new steamy book on all the bestseller lists.

I actually found
Fifty Shades
while perusing the internet about two or three months before it went mainstream. There’s this one book review blog I frequent often, because I usually find that the negative book reviews they publish are almost always books I know I’m going to love. It never fails. On that particular night, there was an extremely scathing book review for
Fifty Shades
written by a serious BDSM reader and I knew immediately I had to buy and read it. Practically every single negative comment in that review was something I knew would
keep me reading. So I went to Amazon, downloaded it to my e-reader, and found myself drawn into the story line the moment I started reading. This happened back in February 2012. At the time there were a handful of Amazon reviews for
Fifty Shades
. Last time I checked there were now over 8,000.

As a published author of gay erotic romance and erotica, I’m not as familiar with the BDSM subgenre as I am with others. Although I’d written truncated stories with light BDSM scenes that I’d worked into less complicated plots over the years, I’d never actually written a full-length novel where the love, emotion, and erotica revolved around a BDSM theme or “lifestyle.” It was
Fifty Shades
that inspired me to do this. And not because it was a huge bestseller; I read
Fifty Shades
and posted about it on my website months before it went mainstream.
Fifty Shades
inspired me because BDSM was a topic that I’d kept at a distance for too long, partly because I didn’t feel comfortable writing about it and partly because I wasn’t certain I could do it justice.

When I finally decided to try, in a full-length BDSM novel titled
Jonah Sweet of Delancey Street
, I set a few personal goals—including avoiding the same mistakes BDSM readers thought
Fifty Shades
had made. Those who are avid writers and readers in the BDSM genre take it very seriously. From what I read in various reviews about
Fifty Shades
, many in the BDSM community seemed to think essential elements of the “lifestyle” were not included in the book. Ironically, I also think this is why so many in the mainstream who knew nothing about BDSM loved the book and made it a huge success. They were all curious about BDSM, in the same way I was when I first heard about it, but didn’t know enough about the “lifestyle” to see any flaws.

By listening to readers and other writers who have very strong opinions about BDSM erotica and erotic romance, I learned more about the important elements they felt
Fifty Shades of Grey
lacked. While I don’t believe there are too many mistakes one can make in writing BDSM fiction, because it’s hard to find a set definition of BDSM anywhere, I do believe there are a few key
elements that are essential to BDSM fiction, which readers come to expect. And yet I still couldn’t understand why the serious BDSM readers were so upset about
Fifty Shades
. As an amateur, I didn’t see any problems with the book, and from reviews I’ve read and comments I’ve heard, neither do most other amateurs.

I needed more information for my novel, and I needed to dig deeper to find out why there were so many differing opinions about what was required in a BDSM novel and what this all meant to
Fifty Shades
. So I asked questions both of people who were and weren’t serious BDSM readers. Almost every single avid reader of BDSM I spoke to during my research mentioned one element I found fascinating: the delicate balance between what happens during erotic BDSM scenes and what happens during non-erotic scenes.

It’s not the only element BDSM readers look for, not by any means. Serious BDSM readers tend to be extremely articulate and they know what they want. But this one element was important to all of them, with respect to character development and how the BDSM moved the story forward. In erotic romance where there is BDSM and love is the focus, some even said they believe this element moves the
love
in the story forward. And it adds to the trust and respect that are both necessary to all BDSM stories, long or short.

I knew I had to be careful with my own story; it worried me for a while, to the point where I almost didn’t tackle the project. What had inspired me so innocently with
Fifty Shades
might also hurt me with my own book. I might not be equipped to write BDSM material convincingly, and I knew my audience would lean more toward serious BDSM readers than the average mainstream reader who knew nothing about BDSM (though I wasn’t opposed to attracting mainstream readers who weren’t experts on BDSM in the same way
Fifty Shades
attracted so many readers). I knew I had to balance the important erotic BDSM aspects with the equally important psychological and emotional elements in non-erotic scenes. As significant as the distinctly
defined roles of the submissive and Dominant are to all BDSM books in erotic scenes, it was just as significant for characters in BDSM books to find an emotional balance in non-erotic scenes if the love or the relationship was going to endure.

Another factor that seemed to be important to serious BDSM readers was that the characters had to be open and willing to try the “lifestyle.” In other words, the character has to want to do it from the very beginning and not be forced or coerced into doing it. I found that most serious BDSM readers didn’t think this happened in
Fifty Shades
. In fact, I heard from more than one reader that the
only
issue they had with
Fifty Shades
was the fact that Anastasia was not interested in BDSM and Christian was. As a novice reading the book, this aspect of
Fifty Shades
was not a problem for me. I’ll even admit openly that I found it compelling and intriguing. I was reading
Fifty Shades
for escapism and entertainment. And I could understand why it would
not
be a problem for all the mainstream readers who were captured by the story line. In the same respect, the more research I did, the more I could understand how it would frustrate serious BDSM readers.

In a general sense, I learned that most BDSM readers aren’t fond of weak, lackluster sub characters in non-erotic scenes. Like most readers in any genre, they hate dumb characters altogether. And many considered Anastasia to be both dumb and weak. They don’t mind gentle, sensitive characters. And they don’t mind quirky fundamental flaws. But weakness and being a submissive in a BDSM novel do
not
go hand in hand. More than that, being Dominant doesn’t necessarily mean a character is stronger in an emotional sense in non-erotic scenes than a submissive character. I’ve heard some say they prefer it when the Dom has certain vulnerabilities in non-erotic scenes.

This is where I learned that the complicated balancing act between what happens during erotic D/s scenes and non-erotic scenes begins. The Dom character can be emotionally vulnerable, with more than one hidden insecurity, and carrying a great
deal of baggage. The mask of dominance and the desire to inflict pain he or she possesses, and the need to control everyone and every single situation, could be nothing more than a façade to keep the world from knowing the harsh truth—that the character has deep insecurities. But he or she can’t be too aggressive in non-erotic scenes. And he or she definitely cannot be a sexist or misogynist. On the other hand, if the sub character comes off as weak and pathetic in non-erotic scenes it can be just as obnoxious as having the Dom be too aggressive.

This balance-of-power aspect in BDSM books can be deceiving for readers and writers who aren’t familiar with BDSM erotica. It was for me in the beginning. New readers often have the preconceived notion that the Dom character will be controlling in all aspects of the relationship and that the sub will always be nothing more than a doormat who carries with him or her psychological issues from the past that have made him or her a sub. Those readers familiar with BDSM find this mindset condescending at best and insulting at worst. Some would even go on to say that those into the “lifestyle” in real life don’t have any baggage; they just like BDSM. Period.

No one could argue the point that in a D/s situation during a BDSM scene the sub releases all power to the Dom, allowing the Dom full control. If the sub is inexperienced, it’s the Dom’s job to use good judgment and keep things from getting out of hand. The stronger the Dom is, and the more the sub trusts the Dom, the more intense the scene will be. By relinquishing all power to the Dom the sub finally experiences the emotional intensity that can’t be found anywhere else. But all that should end as soon as they both get off.

The separation between what happens to the characters during the D/s scenes and what happens while they are functioning in non-D/s scenes becomes a crucial element in the plot and in the depth of the characters’ relationship. In my book I decided to make the Dom an aggressive, controlling individual who came close to being a narcissistic sociopath. He didn’t cross
the line, but he always seemed to be on the verge. The reason he didn’t cross the line is because the sub in my book wouldn’t let him. My sub wouldn’t be controlled outside the sex scenes.

The sub in my book was the gentle, sensitive type who tended to trust people more than he should have. He also had a secret yearning for the “lifestyle” and didn’t have to be talked into doing BDSM. It would have been simple to make him a doormat in all aspects of his life. But that’s not how it works with most subs in real life. I gave my sub an inner strength that some might even say meant he had a stronger personality than the Dom. He also had a way of taking control of the relationship without trying too hard when they weren’t involved in the BDSM scenes. And when faced with situations that didn’t involve the erotic BDSM aspects of their relationship, my sub made it clear from the beginning that my Dom would not control him in every aspect of the relationship. I ultimately found this brought the story to another level, even though it wasn’t exactly what I read in
Fifty Shades
.

What did all my research with BDSM mean for
Fifty Shades
? The basics I loved most in
Fifty Shades
, and what millions of other readers seemed to love, too, weren’t elements that worked well with people who are serious readers of BDSM. It took me a while to figure that out and to fully comprehend why they didn’t work. But I think it’s vitally important to understand that this is not in any way a bad thing. Writers in any subgenre are always trying to attract a new audience that isn’t familiar with that subgenre. No one can say that
Fifty Shades
didn’t break that proverbial glass ceiling for BDSM writers by introducing BDSM into the mainstream. It’s opened doors for other BDSM writers that have been nailed shut for years. It shows that writing BDSM fiction covers a great deal of territory and sometimes books focus on one element over others. And I would venture to guess that if
Fifty Shades
had followed more of the guidelines that serious BDSM readers and writers follow, it might not have become as popular in the mainstream as it is now.