My first time hearing about Fifty Shades of Gray was when a friend asked me if I liked S&M books--so no matter what else I ever learn about it, that's how I will think of it. And that's why I can't read it.th
I have nothing against S&M. As long as no one is hurt and everyone consents, the great range of human sexual behavior is worth exploring and celebrating. But whenever I hear people talk about this book, I think of a student named Christina.
Years ago, she showed up in my developmental writing class. Although she was only nineteen years old, she seemed to carry a great many more years on her. She left home at fourteen to escape a stepfather who was too interested in her. By nineteen, she referred to herself as "retired from the entertainment industry." Translation: she had been a stripper, lap dancer, and occasional hooker.
When I knew her, Christina lived with a man in his forties. One day she came in wearing an expensive leather jacket, saying that her guy had bought it for her because she was good at the mall. When I asked her what that meant, she said it was because she looked hot and other guys looked her over but she didn't look back.
At the end of class one morning, she gathered up her materials and announced that she was headed home because her live-in guy would be gone. A student and I both commented on how nice it is to have some time home alone. She then said (in front of our class and the students coming in for the following class) that she wouldn't be alone because her boyfriend was coming over. She explained that she needed the boyfriend because her live-in wouldn't spank her, and she couldn't help it that she was kinky and needed that to enjoy herself.
At nineteen, this young woman had a poor sense of her value in the world and had been jaded by previous sexual encounters. How can a nineteen-year-old have such specific sexual needs already?
When my friend first told me about the Shades of Gray books and that the guy needed S&M, all I could think about was the young woman who was rewarded for being good at the mall and who felt a need to be spanked.
If she had ever seemed happy, I probably would have forgotten her as anything more than a story about what a student said after class one day. But she never seemed happy. Her career goal was to have a corner office with a big plant. And the entire four and a half months. I knew her, she never ever smiled. Ever.
Every time I think about reading this book about a man with specific sexual needs, I find myself thinking about Christina Who Never Smiled. And it makes me incredibly sad to think about all the broken women we have in our world. And then I just can't bring myself to care about a male character who wants to have sex with an innocent young woman.
