“He doesn't sleep with anyone, although he has a few times with me”

As Fifty Shades of Grey reaches its empty promise of an ending with the supposedly stoic Ana Steele breaking down in tears for the umpteenth time the reader will be torn between thanking the heavens the ordeal is over and pondering the temptation of the sequels. Fifty Shades Darker and Fifty Shades Freed exist, and are even promoted within the first novel's pages, but there are enough warning signs in EL James' debut to crush the natural curiousity over what happens next. After all, nothing of consequence takes place in the initial five hundred pages, which seem determined to stall plot twists for no particular reason. When Bewildered Heart last took leave of Christian and Ana to file a blog report the characters were trapped in a peculiar status quo neither wanted nor wished to exit, due more to narrative requirements than personal integrity. Nevertheless, a handful of events followed, culminating in Ana's grand life decision to throw in the proverbial towel in her quest to turn a psychologically-twisted billionaire playboy into boyfriend material.

The entire plot can be encapsulated in a single sentence and probably should have been, but as the likes of J.K. Rowling and Stephenie Meyers have proved, why use one novel when several will maximise profits? Therefore, a critic must either subject themselves to the full trilogy or review the opening installment knowing two thirds of the tale are yet to be told. Such a critique might still have value had Fifty Shades of Grey told a self-contained story, and while Ana undertakes something approaching an emotional arc the book simply stops, rather than ending with any significance. Ana must sign a contract to be with Christian, even though she is free to renege on the agreement at any given moment, but she never puts pen to paper and eventually walks away. Christian cannot commit to a regular relationship or enjoy sex without involving his disturbing paraphilia, but the story's duration sees him carrying on a regular relationship without a nipple clamp in sight. As the explosive finale lurches into view the fate of Ana and Christian's eternal love hinges on his refusal to be touched on the chest and the mysteries of his birth mother and Mrs. Robinson, all issues that will surely be resolved when EL James sees fit.

Every potentially meaningful narrative turn leads to another life-affirming rut in a well-lit location, and momentous dramas such as meeting in-laws, graduating university, moving house or breaking up were never seriously dealt with due to Christian and Ana's unabashed lustful enthusiasm. However, after what seems like pages a momentary impasse is created through a thousand mile distance that not even Christian's impressive Popsicle can cover. Seeking answers to the intricate web of emotions deeply stirring in her stomach muscles, and receiving no help from the two other women living inside her mind, Ana jets off to sunny Georgia to see her mother and latest husband Bob. There she can relax, and do womanly things such as cooking, sunbathing and discussing boys. Her vacation is interrupted, thankfully, as Christian just happens to be staying in the same hotel where Ana and her mother are enjoying another round of cocktails. Naturally, Mrs. Steele is charmed by the hunky billionaire and his pathological need to track women down no matter how far they run from him. Ana is equally attracted to obsessive behaviour and immediately abandons her only real family. Shortly after two sex scenes a little more of Grey's enigma has been revealed with his stunning admission that he was born to a prostitute who had a penchant for a hard crystalline form of cocaine.

There seems no turning back from the implied importance of this biographical tidbit, but rather than dwell on substance the loved-up couple go gliding before finding their separate ways back to Seattle for the portentous showdown that does not actually matter. The atmosphere within Christian's apartment takes a dark turn, as James achieves the same subtle story-telling she would have showcased by breaking a pen over a piece of paper. One minute Ana rests her head on Christian's shoulder as he plays Bach on his piano and the next she is challenging him to spank her mercilessly as if to prove that is not acceptable. Such is the nature of the relationship between a temperamental psychopath and an idiot that this feels suitable for a conclusive detour. As it turns out Ana does not enjoy real pain and does not want to marry a man who enjoys beating her. With this life-changing epiphany forced into her inner dialogue she packs her things and waits patiently for Christian to write a cheque before storming out, back to her old life and back to being the weak-willed cry baby she wasn't before they had met. For their union to be successful Christian must recognise his demons and stop fighting them through the sexual degradation of women. As for Ana's journey from cliched female character in a romance novel to fulfilled wife of handsome tycoon she must not lose the passion and innocence that were never really at risk to begin with. Fortunately EL James has one thousand further pages to sort out these minor quibbles.

For Bewildered Heart there will be no additional reading, but instead a happy return to Mills & Boon where conceited CEOs of major corporations make their minds up relatively swiftly in matters of the heart. As for Fifty Shades of Grey there appears little to ruminate on. The book did indeed live up to the hype of being formulaic drivel with no redeeming features. Whether a thinly-veiled rewrite of Twilight or a contemporary misunderstanding of Tess of the d’Urbervilles its worldwide readership proves romance publishers are correct to push the timeless scenario of an arrogant alpha male seducing a swooning virgin to a backdrop of obscene wealth. What might have made Fifty Shades striking, and thus deserving of its astounding success, would have been the notion that James had taken archetypal characters and situations as far as they could go. Yet the novel consistently betrays its aspiration for subversive edge. Christian's sadomasochism is hardly explored, and the bondage scenes are tame compared to what is promised when Ana reads through her contract in chapter eleven. Nevertheless, this pulled punch seems minor when considered against the portrayals of hero and heroine and tedious lack of ambition shown in the story-telling.

For struggling authors of salacious daydreams there is now an opportunity to bring what James' novel should have been to a mainstream audience and the millions upon millions of dupes who fell for the word-of-mouth are owed something deserving of their devotion. Perhaps the journey of Fifty Shades from Twilight fan-fiction to standalone phenomenon suggests fans of vampire romance wanted more of the same, but with a little less of the Mormon propaganda. Christian Grey sates this desire, but in-keeping with Edward Cullen his dark and dangerous impulses are never a threat to the heroine, allowing him to manifest the idealised male while diluting the inner turmoil that might have strengthened him as a character. In both series, therefore, conflict is generated externally, despite the lessons of Secrets Uncovered. Twilight introduced a conveyor belt of malevolent vampires to chase Bella while Fifty Shades Darker feels it necessary to throw in philandering bosses, stalkers and helicopter sabotage to compensate for the obvious weakness in the core concept. Such seemingly irrelevant yet glaring flaws bode poorly for the future of the genre, but should serve as encouragement to those with their own idea for a high-stakes romance. If those aforementioned franchises were this popular despite being under-developed and badly-written imagine the fame and fortune awaiting an author capable of competence.

"I want to say, For Anything, but can't articulate the words"

Once an aspiring author has achieved their dream of no longer aspiring to writing there are a handful of obligations each must undertake before they can consider a follow-up novel to their under-whelming debut. Since they have become a player on a fiercely competitive global stage it is imperative they become indistinguishable from their thousands of contemporaries. No author is truly an author unless they are liked on Facebook, followed on Twitter and represented online by both a poorly-designed website and an infrequently updated blog. Here they can share what is distracting them from considering a follow-up novel and post daily word-count numbers, cheesecake recipes and essays on what they have learned for the aspiring authors who stumble distractedly onto their pages while searching for photographs of Hugh Jackman.

One such novelist is the Australian Ally Blake, who offered the internet the advice she gave at the Williamstown Literary Festival of 2006. Much of the focus of the article is skewed towards writers Down Under, and the majority of the more universal assistance sheds no new light on the subject at hand, but she does briefly touch upon one topic Mills & Boon has been somewhat evasive on, even as they constantly stress its importance. This topic is uniqueness, or individuality, to use an actual word. By now Bewildered Heart obsessives should have learned the necessary skills for strong characters, original scenarios, witty dialogue, compelling emotional conflict and sizzling sex scenes, but they should have also noticed how quality is rarely enough for their publishing house of choice and so we turn to Ally for inspiration on how to turn ourselves from Nora Nobodies into Nora Robertsies.

According to Blake, novelist and speed-reader, it is as simple as unifying the extraordinary with the realistic to create a believable combination that is no way contradictory. 'When choosing to use two to three precious hours out of your day to read a novel, you’re not looking to fill in your time reading about Jane and Joe making tea, tending the garden and watching the telly.' While this does sound suspiciously like a challenge, or a dig at literary authors, the sentiment is sensible. Don't gloss over the courtship and skip directly to married life. After all, this is romance fiction, and whether the emphasis is on romance or fiction every day tasks simply will not suffice. 'The hero and heroine in your tale go through something extraordinary. Their problems are deeper, their romance brighter, their falls bigger - they live their lives that little bit harder and faster and more spectacularly than the rest of us.' This is naturally so, as the rest of us are stuck indoors writing and reading vicariously through manifestations of our idealised selves, and at our most desirable would never dream of hot beverages, flowers, entertainment, dull relationships and short drops into shallow conundrums.

Nevertheless, as Ally goes onto point out, the extraordinary is not necessarily extraordinary unless someone relatable notices and reacts suitably. 'Romance readers have been around long enough to recognise literary devices such as forced intimacy, black moments, happily ever afters.' The naïve might believe such canny romance readers deserve to be rewarded with something superior, but these conventions are part of the genre's appeal, offering that warm buzz of familiarity. Yet all this experience affords readers a discerning eye when it comes to character. 'A vulnerable heroine who is afraid of spiders but still walks around a corner in a dark spooky house to see what that strange noise was will be deemed too stupid to live and that book will never be finished.' Why a romantic protagonist is wandering alone around a dark spooky house that makes peculiar sounds is not something Blake seems willing to deal with in this article, but perhaps the hero is a giant spider or a billionaire spider collector, thus suggesting the emotional conflict at the centre of the concept.

This is the critical concoction of grounded fantasy that Blake alludes to. A charming, albeit nervous, heroine allows for a down-to-earth viewpoint into larger-than-life tale of an innocent house-keeper plunged into a sordid battle of sexual politics with a haughty, albeit handsome, arachnoid internet tycoon. There the author has found the perfect balance of dramatic adventure beyond the ken of their readers, while maintaining a footing in the real world through how Jane deals with her predicament, her soft hands shaking violently as she stirs milk into his tea. 'Romantic literature is about keeping it real with just a touch of fairy dust.' This final insight appears to amount to a satisfactory conclusion, with Ally Blake moving onto other things, safe in the knowledge she has not let slip any useful information that might be used by others to threaten her career.

The absence of perceptive comment suggests that there is no secret ingredient to make a novel stand out from the others in the slush pile, and the likes of Blake and Bewildered Heart are deceiving struggling authors by claiming to be able to help. Ally's essay ends up making two patently obvious statements, firstly it is essential that you write an interesting story, and secondly your characters must respond to experiences as humans would. Still, adhering to these two rules would hardly mark a manuscript out as unique, rather competent. Furthermore, these comments are not particular to Blake's chosen genre. Unpredictable character reactions can be strongly utilised, and therefore none of this expert opinion is worthwhile or even accurate. Still, when scouring an author's social networking, online diaries or advice columns it does not appear as if anyone has specified exactly what to fill those empty spaces with. Nobody has learned anything and nobody has anything to pass on, and so nonsense is regurgitated endlessly, with the latest updates. 'Today romance fiction is whatever it wants to be. Within the constraints of the genre the possibilities are endless.' If anything is possible why are there constraints, and if romance cannot be defined, why are there all these articles?

"He likes his women sentient. He's probably not celibate then"

Fifty Shades of Grey weighs in at a daunting five hundred and six pages. The lettering is large and easily distinguishable even at an appropriately coy distance, yet the bombastic and inept prose style of author EL James will cause every reader, regardless of their obsession, to struggle their way through, questioning their commitment as often as the heroine flushes. The admittedly congruous pain of such an arduous slog could have been avoided had the novel any merits, but Fifty Shades of Grey is utterly without distinction. Now, there are numerous websites, newspapers, magazines and people standing by themselves at parties who are all too happy to discuss the book, and therefore Bewildered Heart, still grimly wading through turgidity with several hundred pages remaining, cannot simply regurgitate plot and glaring literary flaws, as it does with the majority of the Mills & Boon's it has reviewed. What little that can be added in way of explanation of James' enduring success seems worthless at this juncture also, and yet something must be written to account for the continued reading.

Therefore we shall attempt to highlight the positives in James' tome because, despite evidence to the contrary, there are strong ideas at the heart of the novel's concept, although James seems unaware of what they are. The tale of Ana and Christian rushes headily into the bashful glancing and blushing stage, with our aloof billionaire barely able to string a sentence together without grinning knowingly at the sexual connotations of something he didn't quite say. Our virginal, yet sexy, heroine seems equally incapable of performing tasks without deciphering the sexual connotations and reddening mercilessly, to the point where her ghostly complexion is replaced by a perpetual shade of crimson. Despite this, Mr. Grey is smitten. Even after several warnings from the man himself, her only friend Kate and assorted males Ana is too a prisoner to her carnal desires and soon, after a series of contrived meetings, a polite courtship begins. However, Christian is insistent that he be the only man to force himself on Ana and a drunken pass from token ethnic José only hurries the plot towards the losing of consciousness that inevitably leads to marriage. Before the reader can shout, 'Get on with it,' James has her characters in a helicopter on their way to Grey's luxurious bachelor pad, ensconced snugly inside a mountain carved into the form of his lop-sided smile.

Yet, as everyone already knows, Christian Grey isn't your average impossibly-beautiful twenty-seven year old self-made billionaire and with comical brevity his dark secrets are unravelled, inbetween lengthy bouts of plot-defying love-making. Christian asks Ana to become his submissive, the woman he keeps in a room at the top of his stairs, who dresses as he pleases, eats as he demands, shaves where he tells her and obeys unquestioningly his every whim. Ana's acquiescence is complicated by a mysterious locked door in Christian's luxurious duplex. Fortunately, any tension is immediately squandered as the door is opened shortly after Ana notices it. Inside what is aptly named the Red Room of Pain is an arsenal of torture devices, chains, hooks, ropes and a four-poster bed, because billionaire sadomasochism has decorum. As it transpires, Christian became a submissive to his adoptive mother's friend at the age of fifteen and after many years of corporal punishment has developed a taste for inflicting pain on others. Ana is horrified, yet naturally aroused, and tentatively agrees to read over one of the contracts Christian keeps permanently tucked into his jacket pocket.

Before soft and hard limits can be discussed there is the small matter of Ana's purity to deal with. Christian is unable to believe that Ana has amassed twenty-one years without a wealthy eccentric propositioning her, yet she is as untouched as he is perverse. Quickly he regains the icy demeanour he tends towards and breaks his two cardinal rules of never making love and never sharing a bed by gently making patient love and then sharing a bed of restful sleep. Ana has a man, somewhere to live, a car, a computer, a degree, a thriving sex-life and money, while Christian has been cured of his penchant for violence and has overcome his sleep disorder. Those assuming this to be a happy ending are best advised to gloss over the following three hundred pages. By that time nothing more has been resolved and no headway has been made into understanding Mr. Grey's enigma or Miss Steele's stupidity. Herein lies the inherent problems in James' story-telling. Fifty Shades of Grey is fantastical fairytale, ignoring reality and refusing to approach potentially compelling ideas, satisfied instead to trade on supposedly risqué sexual content for a gimmick.

The sex is poorly utilised, however, as James removes all darkness, brutality and threat in order to maintain the idealised fantasy of her world. She portrays Christian as impossible to love, due to his bedroom peccadilloes and aloof sensibility, but he is the finest slice of masculinity ever committed to page. He wants Ana, but only on his own terms and makes it clear he is unable to be the man she needs him to be. This core concept might have allowed for a searing morality tale, a powerful rite-of-passage or a emotionally-wrought love story, but the set-up is fallacious, as James cannot commit to unlikeable characters or even the slightest sense of danger. Christian is an intelligent, loving, sensitive, charming control freak who enjoys hurting women, even though he has never hurt a woman and does not like to. He says he cannot share a bed and yet does, sleeping better than when he's alone. His dysfunction is not debilitating, scary or painful, but rather a lively and worthwhile interest guaranteeing countless orgasms. Ana risks nothing by being with him and without knowing what she wants she stands to gain everything all women want which we assume she wants too, what with Ana being a woman.

Every romance begins with a couple arranging a compromise where both find mutual benefits from a relationship. Unlike the more honestly conventional Mills & Boon novels, Fifty Shades of Grey positions itself as the ultimate power struggle, involving sex as a visual metaphor for that confrontation. In this sense there is great promise in the novel's central conceit, but this is incompetently wasted, as has become custom in the romance genre. James strives for a powerful conflict that her plot is incapable of earning. The narrator is a morbidly embarrassed klutz who hates her appearance and seems to cope with the world by splitting herself into three distinct personalities, all of whom hate one another and indulge in a lifelong game of Schadenfreude. This is an obvious attempt to make her sympathetic, but instead results in a series of failed jokes. Nevertheless, these signs of deep psychological scarring remain the only indication that Ana has character.

All the reader is left with is what the reader came for in the first place, the sex. Christian's paraphilia for silk ties and riding crops is consistent with the flaws in his personality, creating the arc he must resolve for his happy ending. Yet due to the book's idealised wish-fulfillment the darker aspects of his sexuality turn out hugely gratifying for all involved, meaning the hero draws the heroine into his world rather than she draws him back to a satisfying equilibrium. Does James therefore make the argument that people should be more sexually adventurous, less inhibited and more honest with themselves about desire? If she does it appears to be a purely coincidental consequence of her predictable formula. Yet the impression is offered that Ana is empowered by what she is made to do and contented by the constant rushes of pleasure that crash over her like waves. This seems to be a delusional fantasy on the part of the author, as Ana's stereotypical depiction as an unworldly virgin allows for no insight into anything. Moving forward with dwindling optimism we note, with dismay, that there are many chapters remaining. Will we learn what secrets Christian hides behind his beautiful eyelashes and curly chest hair and more importantly, will they have any worthwhile effect on the story or Ana's philosophical musings?