Fifty Shades Dumber (Fifty Shades Darker: pgs. 451-544)

This is it, gentle reader. The dark shade will be lifted and we can walk into the light together. Or at least go outside and stick a toe on a blade of grass and then run back inside and bathe in the light of the TV.

What am I blathering on about? I honestly don’t know because 10 minutes ago some fluid and brain bits streamed out of my ears when I hit the last page of Fifty Shades Darker: The Edge of Reason. I tried scooping some up and slapping it on my head, but I still feel really, really stupid. So what better time to wrap up this final recrap?

(For previous installments, click here)

Holy crap plausible plot twist! We begin on page 451 with the horrible news that Christian’s helicopter, the Charlie Tango, is missing! And it could have fallen down that well!

Ana is so upset that she can only muster a description of the flames in the fireplace as dancing and weaving “bright blazing orange with tips of cobalt blue.” She wishes she could rub her lady bits against Christian’s meat sword in front of that fire.

More reminiscing and flash-backing ensues:

We learn the many sides of Christian Grey: “control freak, CEO, stalker, sex god, Dom.” By all means, someone find him–fast!!

Then Christian appears. His family embraces him. He locks eyes with Ana and narrows them when he sees Jose holding her hand. Do you see how a near-death experience changes a fella?

We get the riveting helicopter story: fire goes bla-bloom and chopper goes wah-wah and bippety bop flop. Christian and his number 2, Ros, landed on an island with a smoke monster, and walk back to civilization. Walking was slow because Ros was wearing heels, that fucking bitch. Cell battery’s dead. Couldn’t stop to call because he figured Jose was raping Ana in his absence.

Everyone, but Jose, leaves when Christian pulls Ana into his lap like a baby.

Okay…um…weird. We’re out, Christian. Glad you’re safe, says Christian’s dad.

Jose decides to go to sleep when Christian starts thrusting his hands in Ana’s hair.  Christian wants to shower. Ana’s wrapped around him like a barnacle, and for some reason he cannot move because he’s holding his jacket. I can’t explain it, and I’ve read it three times. He won’t drop his jacket because he has the wrapped birthday present from Ana inside it.  He opens it, and it’s a key chain from Oriental Trading Company that reads “Butt Plug of the Year.”

“Turn it over,” Ana whispers.

On the back, it says “Yes.” Ana has accepted his marriage proposal, and it’s just as lame as expected. They head to the shower and talk about expectations as a married couple.

I’m joking. They bathe in their bodily fluids.

Christian remarks how the keychain is better than some signed kick boxer poster he has. Wow, what a compliment. I think I’ll tell my husband I like my engagement ring better than that Call of Duty™ throw rug I almost won at a county carnival.

Next morning Ana makes Christian breakfast. Jose is already there masturbating into his oatmeal. They have a normal conversation about Ana’s great love for Christian, and then Christian shows up and I’ll let Ana describe him:  “Holy fuck, he’s wearing only pajama bottoms that hang in that totally hot way off his hips.” I understand most of the general public wears its pants around its collective neck so that does sound hot. He swaggers around and freely sprays pee to mark his territory. Jose passes on breakfast after Christian pees on the omelette.

Christian asks about Jose’s plans. Jose is going fishing with his dad and Ana’s step dad Ray. Jose and Christian bond over men stuff like man caves and war. Ana thinks: “They’re talking fishing. What is it about fishing. I have never understood it.” Well Ana, fishing is a sport that entails the use of poles and bait to attract fish. Fish live in water. Humans live on land. Sometimes humans eat fish.

Jose leaves, and Ana wants to give Christian his other two present because “(t)he thought of my present is burning a whole in my consciousness.” That might need medical attention. That sounds like an aneurysm.  The second present is a toy solar-powered helicopter. He sets it in the sun and the rotors start to spin.

“Look at that. What we can already do with this technology,” Christian murmurs in awe. I have a feeling Christian would be impressed by one of those matchbook-sized sponges that expand into a full-size sponge when you dunk it in water. The things we can do with technology these days.

Ana wonders if Christian’s helicopter, the Charlie Tango is salvageable. Christian hopes so because he misses her. And Ana predictably feels jealous of a mode of transportation.

The next present is an eye mask, nipple clamps, a solar-powered butt plug and a key to the red room of pain. Christian asks if there’s anything Ana won’t do, and she says she wants no photos, eluding to the box of illicit photographs she found. The butt plug she chose was too big, another one is too small, but Christian’s pinky finger is jusssssssst right! Ana gasps “Fingers. . . there?” Yes a butt plug is just so normal, but a finger? Heavens to betsy!

Christian chooses a different set of nipple clamps, and Ana frowns thinking he knows just so much more than her. She only out bests him in cooking. Well dang, woman, you’re a woman. What did you expect? You might also be better at sewing and getting paid less, so buck up!

Ana notices all the canes have vanished from the room. She wonders if Mrs. Jones the housekeeper removed them to be polished along with the silver. Christian cuffs and blindfolds her.

He pours oil over her and has her suck on a pacifier-shaped butt plug that vibrates. He inserts the plug in her hoo-hoo and sticks his finger in her butt. They do it again and Ana has another epiphany of the many shades of Christian Grey. . . “the sweet, gentle persona, his rugged, I-can-do-what-I-fucking-well-like-to-you-and-you’ll-come-like-a-train Dominant side–his fifty shades–all of him.”

I’m beginning to see many sides to author E.L. James. The I-just-write-whatever-pops-in-my-head-and-people-will-lap-it-up-like-a-big-pail-of-dirty-butt-plug-cleaning-fluid writer and the shitty writer.

Lots of filler. Ana makes dinner. Christian thinks her skirt is too short. He calls Ray and asks for Ana’s hand. Ray is skeptical but thinks Christian is a nice guy and knows fishing.

And more filler. Christian asks Ana why she brought up taking photos before he greased her butt crack, and she mentions finding his stash of photographs. He said they’re for insurance so his subs won’t expose him. “The penny drops and rattles uncomfortably around and around in my empty head.” Explains so much about Ana.

She bakes him a cake. He says it’s evocative. Oh yes, the crack whore birth mom baked. How…nice?

They head to a birthday party at Christian’s parent’s house. Kate makes a beeline for the couple, and snarls she needs to talk to them. She has read the email Ana sent with questions about the BDSM contract. Ana is pissed at Kate for being concerned because she is in an abusive relationship lurve and that contract was, like, so two weeks ago.  Old news, yo. Kate actually apologizes to them. And to Christian twice because she is a terrible friend to question his desire to control Ana’s body, mind and spirit.

Party time. Elena’s there. And the blonde server who wants to serve up her vagina to Christian. Ros is there as well, but she is the only non-related woman who doesn’t salivate over Christian’s elephant penis…and that’s because she’s a lesbian. Yup.

Christian makes his big announcement:

Both Ana and Christian are pissed when his sister Mia asks about a ring and a date. Yes, what completely inappropriate questions. These two butt plugs are made for each other.

Dr. Flynn is there too with his wife. “Glad you’re still with us, Christian,” Dr. Flynn says. “My life would be most dull–and penurious–without you.” Does anyone else get the sense that E.L. James wrote this with a giant thesaurus on her lap? It just seems…dum. I need to get a thesaurus.

Elena confronts Ana and begins to assume the persona of a police officer in a third-rate cop show. “Not so fast missy… You’re making a big mistake here lady.” When Elena calls Ana a “mousy little gold digger,” Ana throws a drink in her face. Christian turns up and Elena wants to be the only vaginal-ball-wearer in his life. Christian’s mom overhears the whole exchange and kicks Elena out. Ana makes a beeline for Christian’s bedroom and gathers up the courage to look at the photograph of his crack whore birth mother.

Phew! She is so not prettier than me, Ana thinks.

Christian finds her and they talk about Ana’s need to eat. Oh thank god, I was hoping that would come up again since it never comes up except all the time.

He takes her to the same boathouse where he angrily pounded her when she wouldn’t let him finger her at the dinner table. This time, the boathouse is filled with flowers and he gives her a ring.

It’s not the end though.

The whole book is from Ana’s first-person perspective, i.e., the penny rolling around in an empty head, but now we switch gears to third person from the perspective of a mysterious man who is clearly Jack Hyde. He is sitting outside the Grey mansion in his car.

Things we learn:

  • He tampered with the helicopter
  • Grey’s a prick and doesn’t know jack shit. (I think that’s a clue!!)
  • Mystery man was from the gutter end of Detroit
  • Ana’s a little bitch.
  • Mystery man’s ribs still hurt from the rib-kicking from the prick’s henchmen.
  • Grey is a mother fucker who will get it good.
  • I do not want to read the third book.


  1. “Well dang, woman, you’re a woman. What did you expect? You might also be better at sewing and getting paid less, so buck up!” Flying in the face of all that is feminism, just as this book does. Beautiful.

    Also, I am begging you to read the third book, and I know I won’t be the only one.

    1. I hear the third book is the hardest to get through–and this from people who enjoyed the first two books so…I’m going to have to talk to Hugo about this and see what he thinks.

  2. “I have a feeling Christian would be impressed by one of those matchbook-sized sponges that expand into a full-size sponge when you dunk it in water.”

    I will never in my life be able to top this. Never.

    1. Oh, you never know. One day you might choose to read the worst piece of literature in the history of the written word and be inspired to write such a sentence.

  3. Congratulations?

    My favorite part of this one was when you explained fishing to Ana. Well, also the possibility that mystery man will just kill these people. I also love that you slipped the phrase “heavens to betsy!” into this series.

    Excuse me, it’s past midnight and my eyes are hooded with exhaustion.

  4. The physicians at my clinic recommend Nexium for heartburn. I say this because if I had read all this crapity crap double crap you just read, I would need a year’s supply to take in a day. But I really love that you do it. 😀 BIG grins. God bless you.

  5. Once again, you have outdone yourself. The third one will make the other two look like Shakespeare.

  6. Until ten minutes ago, I was more thankful for syphilis than I was for these books being in existence, but now I have reconsidered because if they didn’t exist I wouldn’t have just snorted Diet Coke through my left nostril whilst reading this truly astounding bit of piss-taking. AND you are the only other person IN THE WORLD apart from me who I have EVER heard use ‘heavens to Betsy’, which means you are doubly great. I stopped at the first book because I was frightened my eyes would take it upon themselves to implode rather than see anymore of the terrible words, but PLEASE read the third book – the world will thank you for it.

    1. I’m glad I have a heavens-to-Betsy kindred spirit. I have started the third book and have streaks of blood streaming down from the sockets where my eyes used to be.

      1. Haha – and let me guess, your brain is no longer a brain but a kind of insipid grey liquid, a bit like a scummy puddle, floating aimlessly round your skull and gradually dribbling out of your ears? Because I’m still putting my brain back together after reading the first book. I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same again.

  7. At this point I don’t think you have a choice but to read the 3rd book. Your readers seem to be demanding it. This may go to the top of your list of things you wish you had never started.
    Oh, by the way, I just heard that a 4th book is ready for print.

  8. I feel like I need to read these books only because every description and excerpt I hear I think can’t be true. It can’t be that goofy.

    Your version is pretty great, though.

    1. My versions don’t do the book justice. You are denied the experience of reading “I bit my lip. He narrows his eyes. Deep, dark desire pools in my belly. Argh! Christian pours himself into me” over and over and over and over again until words lose all meaning.

  9. I just spent my Sunday morning reading every single one of your 50 Shades entries, and they are beyond hysterically marvelous. I hated the books (still dissecting why I didn’t stop 25 pages into the first), but I think your “recraps” are that much better, being a sister sufferer. The third is indeed the worst, and you will just lose it completely if you read it. Especially towards the end. But I am not selfless, so I really hope that you do. 😉

    (Incidentally, try not to think badly of me because I read them. It was a disease.)

  10. First: Nobody say this is worst book series of all time. I said that about Twilight, and the karma gods brought us . . . this. Second: I may have to get the books too, because it is just such a level of awfulness – I know it’s true, but somehow I can hardly believe it. But no way am I giving EL more money so then I’ll have to get on a waiting list of 45 at my local library – no I’m freaking serious. Third: There is a waiting list for these books? I think the Mayans might be right after all.

    1. I hate that I paid money for the books. I already gave the first one away to a family member who was interested in reading the series. Yes, we are doomed.

  11. Hold on. I’m confused. Maybe my brain has reformatted itself to remove the memories of the rest of this book, but whatever happened to the chick who was trying to kill Ana? Did she get captured? Give up? Secretly succeed, leaving only a brainless zombie in Ana’s place?

    (Given Ana’s acceptance of the marriage proposal, I’m thinking it’s option 3.)

    1. Your version is much, much better. She broke into Ana’s apartment. She had a gun. Now, don’t get too upset…I know this is very stressful. Christian arrives and gets her to give him the gun being her former Dominant, and orders Ana to leave. Ana’s jealous and thinks Christian still likes gun-toting gal. And that’s about it, but it was very shocking.

      1. So she just… left? I mean, that was it? She got herself a gun, stalked Ana, and then when Hugo… er, Christian, told her to go away, she did? And that was the end of the shocking plot?

        I think I’m disappointed.

        (Yes, of all the things to be disappointed in when it comes to this book, this is the thing that pushes me over the edge.)

    2. Well… after Christian got the gun from her he gave her a bath (yeah), put her in some of Ana’s clothes, called up Dr. Flynn and they took her to what I assume is some sort of facility to treat that sort of thing. Ana is pissed because Christian gave her a bath, and when he gave her the Dom stare to get her to stand down it looked like they were “connecting” or whatever. Ana goes and gets drunk with Jose, stumbling home at a very late hour (apparently 10 p.m. is late to Ms. James) to Angry Christian. Later in the book Dr. Flynn mentions that she’s not making much progress and that’s the end of Leila’s story.

  12. Thanks for the memories…that is, the would-be memories had I actually read this book. Reading your review was, I suspect, a much more pleasurable ride. I have just about had it with 50 shades of any color as well as all the vampire wannabes that have crawled out of the walls since Anne Rice began the whole damned genre over again. Of course, I also just tried to wade through some Hemingway–stopped in the first third and went to the last chapter; it was all I could do, really–so I may not be the best person to comment on this. Anyway, thanks. Now I can at least talk to the crazies who read and loved the book–if I have to.

    1. There is no pleasure to be had from reading these books. I hear all the time how these books spice up one’s sex life, and I have to say, it has had the complete opposite effect on me.

  13. Please, please, please read the third book! Please? But also, read ‘Jane Eyre’ or something first. Replenish your brain a little. Maybe some nice Dickens? A little Salman Rushdie? I fear for your brain.

  14. Oh i just went right on ahead and carried on reading – I have only got so far as … I actually can’t remember where i’m up to in the story, perhaps pages 350-400? Dunno. They just had sex – that bit.

    But now, thanks to you, I do not need to continue on! Why on earth did I think that reading it myself and then reading your version was the best way round to do it? Perhaps it was reading the first book that made me THAT stupid. Thanks for doing the updates for us so that we may get to know how the turbulent and complex relationship of Ana and Christian pans out – I shall let The Queen know and see if she can’t sort you out a little OBE or something, for public services.

  15. I feel this entry was missing some “holy crap.” I think I have about 30 pages to go or something because I’ve read about half of what’s happened in this particular entry. I feel like I’m making myself so much dumber for reading them, but out of curiosity and peer pressure I’m continuing on. I so don’t want to read the third book. 😦 I’m in if you’re in?

    1. I am trying very hard to open the third book. It’s been about two days and the book is still in the same place on a counter. I’m going to make another attempt today.

  16. I can’t wait to see what you do with Book 3–it’s GODAWFUL, but the upcoming post will make the time I sacrificed worthwhile.

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