Wednesday, September 12, 2012

50 Shades of Ridiculous



On the advice of an overly excited friend (and extremely poor judgement on my part), I picked up a copy of 50 Shades of Grey. Yes, you could say that I succumbed to peer pressure, but it was the intrigue generated by all the talk in the media that really pushed me to pick up the copy. Now, reluctantly, I began reading the book, but if I’m really being honest, it’s the chemistry and the spark which the protagonists shared that made me read the first 150 pages with keen interest. That being said, I still haven’t finished the first book. My initial reaction to the sex was the obvious – getting absolutely flushed and red-faced. But, moving past the sex and the obvious chemistry (obvious only because author EL James was probably giving voice to one of her deepest, darkest fantasies), it got me thinking. This is, after all, modern-day America where what passes as regular entertainment are reality shows like ‘Teen Moms’ and ‘13 & Pregnant’, one has to really stop and take note of the glaring fact – James is delusional.

I may not read as often as I’d like to but when I do, I’d like to at least read something that makes a bit of sense (maybe that’s not necessarily how I would put it but let’s just say for argument sake, it needs to be a little rooted in reality), even if it’s mindless entertainment. For one, there are probably little to no virgins left in America. But let’s give the author the benefit of the doubt and say that there are a few (at the “tender” age of 19). Is she trying to sell the audience on the fact that Anastasia was such a prude that she didn’t know how things work or what she’s supposed to do? I, for one, find that incredibly hard to believe. But, let’s continue to give her the benefit of the doubt and still say that that’s a possibility as well. Does the author expect us to believe that the protagonist is the quintessential girl next door, damsel in distress and the humble beauty all rolled into one? Reality check, anyone?

Despite that, I'd still say all these aspects are forgivable. Because let’s face it, chick-lit thrives on lonely, unhappy women living vicariously through the characters they read about. But what I do not understand is why, if this is in fact erotica, did James forget what she was really writing (or trying to) and introduce the emotional angle? If it’s “mommy porn” at the end of the day, it would have probably gained a lot more readership if she’d stuck solely to the sex and BDSM (Bondage and Sadomasochism) and completely bypassed the whole emotional atyachaar of disappointment and heartache. Did she think that women were incapable of enjoying sex purely for the act? It is the 21st century for crying out loud!

But if that’s not enough, she goes a step further to give this dysfunctional relationship a “happy ending” because, who doesn’t want a happily ever after, right? But, if any sane person were in her place (here: Anastasia), they’d probably run as fast as they could the other way! For one, Christian Grey was a sadist. And let’s be honest here, men are not prone to changing who they really are. Secondly, he has a ‘Red Room of Pain’ as Ana calls it; complete with very frightful looking “toys” (if you could call it that) that he uses to subdue his victim. The fact that that’s how she describes him should make any women look for an escape route even before anything really starts. I mean, you’ve got to be really sick, probably a masochist, if you’re okay with being treated like that. Yes, there are people who are into that level of kinky but I don’t think any man would disrespect his woman in that way if he really loved her. This brings me back to my point of the emotional angle being introduced. In such kind of writing, emotions don’t really have a part. And in order to truly enjoy the dirty sex part of the story, it needed to be devoid of emotions. James should have ignored the “Will my book really sell if I leave out the emotions?” thought and left out the commercial appeal to her book and maybe, then we could have forgiven the bad writing and appreciated the book for what it’s really meant to be – the satisfaction of one’s carnal desires.

After reading the column ‘Grey Science’ by Deblina Chakrabarty in the September issue of MW, my aversion to reading the rest of the book was only further realised. The column may not be the best opinion piece I’ve read on the 50 Shades phenomenon but she does touch upon some great points. As she rightly calls it, “A clichéd fairytale dressed up as a sex romp.” That is the reason I finally voice my opinion on the 50 Shades of Grey series (50 Shades of Grey, 50 Shades Darker and 50 Shades Freed – though I really wonder what Ana’s been freed from, the “bondage” or her insane need to be dominated.) I cannot seem to understand the fascination with BDSM. Is it that we’re all closet masochists appreciating the unspoken truth that lies beneath or are we all just emotionally damaged that we cannot distinguish between healthy sex and that which is bordering on the criminally insane (of sorts). But, to each his own I guess.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

The Ramblings of a Disappointed Girl



Sometimes, it’s hard to put into words just what it is that you’re feeling. Disappointments are abundant – whether it’s criticism at work, the constant nastiness and condescending tones you deal with or the very fact that, because of human error, you’re reprimanded and made to look a fool. Nothing is ever going to be exactly the way you expect and maybe, that’s why disappointments arise. What is it about the human condition that keeps us hopeful, despite knowing the outcome before hand? Are we all closet masochists or is it that we expect too much from the people around us?

(I’d like to believe that) I’ve always been an optimist. And I’ve had to learn the hard way the world is filled with beautiful liars. And more often than not, it’s relationships that disappoint the most. Maybe it’s because women, when they love, they give their hearts and souls away, expecting the same in return. And then, when expectations aren’t met, disappointments arise. Big surprise! And being understanding and reasonable in the hopes of being given priority over the other is an inevitable disillusionment. So why then, do we still place our hopes where the foreseeable danger of dissatisfaction is lurking? And, what’s sad is that despite this expected outcome, women will be hopeful till the very last minute.

And today, I learned a valuable lesson. Whether I keep it in mind in the future is debatable but it was a predictable unpredictability. I’m not really sure that’s even a possibility but, if you stop to think, even the tiniest bit of hope will cause such an outcome.  And it’s made me realised the importance of self preservation. Maybe that’s not what I would call it. But let’s just say, for argument sake, that it’s important to do things that makes us happy first, before we decide to be all so selfless and end up, as time only proves, disappointed. It’s been the story of my life so far. When I’ve done wrong, things seem to have fallen into place for me. When I’ve been selfish, I’ve always been happier. Is this the way the world really works? Does selfishness really pay off? I’d like to believe that we’re all better than this. But the sad fact remains, selflessness goes hand in hand with disappointment, no matter how much you disagree.

You may be wondering what I’m on about. But that’s not what matters. Because at the end of the day, whatever the situation, a woman will always have expectations from her man, and she’ll always wait for the “good news” she wants to hear, despite what she knows she’ll hear. I may not be making much sense. But I’m not here to be coherent. I’m here in the hope that some man somewhere will realise just how much hope, faith and trust their partner have placed in them and they, try their best to not build her up, only to let her down again...

This is how my life is as I take stock today. It’s not what it used to be – carefree. All these feelings, hopes and dreams I’ve shared have left me vulnerable. These are my words, the words that rise from a heavy heart. The words I’ve always let slip, without a trace. And this is my smile, one that’s failing to hide the tears underneath. I’ve shown that too many times before. I guess I’m the masochist after all...