Fifty Shades Freed

Chapter One: You did this, world. You did this by buying this trash.

It’s been two long years. Two long, agonising, frustrating, hair falling out, questioning the publishing industry, questioning natural taste, questioning life itself years and I have reached numero three. The two previous books did nothing other than introduce us all to the most lifeless, detestable and downright pathetic couple to ever grace literature with their moaning and they proceeded to fall “in love” and get engaged.

That’s it.

A little sexual harassment, some crazy ex-girlfriends and one decent supporting character (Kate) and THAT’S IT. NINE HUNDRED PAGES OF JUNK!

If this series were food, it would be the Big Mac. Tasteless, weirdly popular, insulting to people who actually care about food and completely, 100% BAD FOR YOU!

But I have to finish what I start, no matter how hard the climb. *Takes a deep breath*.

Into Chapter One of “Fifty Shades Freed”. Upon completion, I too shall be free.

“Christian is beside me, stretched out on a sun lounge. My husband–my hot, beautiful husband.”

Author’s Note: Head hit the desk at this very early stage.

Actually no, I take that back. We have clearly been plunged into a post-wedding time jump. Therefore, I don’t have to read through pages and pages of Ana going on and on about her wedding ceremony. Well, I hope not. We’ve skipped the wedding and they’re on their honeymoon; no vows, no white dress, no crying and no first dance. Ace.

Ana carries on describing her new husband, the sun in her galaxy, without him she will shrivel up and die. She calls him “hot” a total of three times in the first paragraph because she’s an English major and apparently they don’t possess good vocabularies.

She’s listening to a “Christian Grey” playlist on her iPod. I don’t know if this is normal with married couples, or if it’s one of her many pretentious–sorry, adorable little quirks.

Fuck, I spoke too soon. We’ve cut to a flashback. Christian is talking about eloping post-coitus and Ana, instead of communicating what she wants for a wedding, wonders, “What does he want?”

ASK! JUST ASK!

Three paragraphs go by where Ana inwardly wrestles with finding the right answer to give her controlling fiancé so he isn’t angry. He tells her she has one month to plan a wedding as he doesn’t want to wait any longer than that. Ana timidly agrees and then we cut back to the two of them sunbathing on their honeymoon.

Ana makes a “joke” about going topless on the beach “like the other women”. You know, because normally Ana’s “not like other girls”. Cue, vomit. Christian tells her he would hate that and that she’s already too revealing.

In her bikini. Covered up.

She laughs at how controlling and possessive he is and then he slaps her on the ass. As ever, when shit like this happens, I google to see if E.L James is actually a real woman. You know, rather than a robot that’s been programmed with pure misogyny to drag us back into the fifties.

We cut back to the wedding. Christian drags Ana away from their wedding party early to begin the honeymoon, much to the disappointment of her family and friends. When Ana’s mother questions this, Ana says, “Christian doesn’t want me to”.

If she were my daughter/friend, I’d be subtly dialling the police but no one does because they’re stupid and moronic and, well, because plot.

They have sex on Christian’s yacht and it’s as vanilla and bland as always, hardly worth writing about in the grand scheme of things. Christian makes it all about himself and Ana’s just happy to be there, so it’s business as usual with Mr. and Mrs. Have No Common Sense or Likeable Character Traits.

The chapter ends with Ana waking up from a nap on her sun lounger to find Christian yelling at her. Apparently, she’s been forbidden from getting a tan. You know, because when you get married your body is no longer your own.

Fuck you, Grey. Fuck you, Ana. Fuck this book already and fuck everyone who tries to say this ridiculous shite is literature.

Until next time, Shaders. Wish I could say it’s good to be back, but I’m already annoyed.

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