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E.L. James Is Right, The Term ‘Mommy Porn’ Is Sexist

Say what you will about British writer E.L. James and her Twilight fanfic-turned-novel Fifty Shades of Grey , but girl is living large. (Seriously, she’s making bank. At this point I imagine that her paychecks come in the form of a comically oversized canvas sack with a dollar sign printed on the side, just brimming with money.) To top off her year of domination, James was recently named USA Today‘s “Author of the Year,” a status symbol probably as coveted in literary circles as second-grader Julia Norris’ selection for her monthly book report or the advertising panel next to David Baldacci’s on the Q train.

Obviously I have no intention of joining the cult of James and her League of Extraordinary Inner Goddesses any time soon — I have a low threshold for cheesy euphemisms and pain — but I did find myself avidly agreeing with the author’s thoughts on the subtle sexism surrounding her novel. When USA Today brought up the label “mommy porn” in their “Author of the Year” chat with James, the author had a strong reaction:

[That] is the most misogynistic term. It’s so demeaning. Women aren’t allowed to write about sex, to read about sex, to think about sex. God forbid that women have fantasies.

While I don’t think that Christian Grey’s saga is, say, this decade’s Feminine Mystique, I absolutely agree with James; the term “mommy porn”, which has been bandied about since Fifty Shades‘ rise, infantilizes female sexuality and ultimately sniggers at the sheer unnaturalness of women’s sexuality. The culture of “mommy porn” allows morning news anchors to talk openly about horny soccer moms before the weather report — not exactly what I would call “liberating.” The sexuality that “mommy porn” suggests isn’t threatening or powerful, it’s cute.

The phrase “mommy porn” also connotes shame, making women feel dirty and bad for engaging in fantasies. “You can’t read porn, you’re a Mommy.” Note the childish and singsongy use of “mommy” rather than “mom”; the genre is referred to as “porn” as opposed to “erotica”, which would be the correct term. It’s a catchy phrase because it incorporates two extremes: “mommy” and “porn”, the former conjuring a serene and idyllic world of swingsets and kissed boo-boos, the latter Times Square in it’s peep show prime. One is clean, one is dirty; one is virtuous, one is sinful.

But Fifty Shades of Grey isn’t porn, my friends — not for Mommies, and not for anyone. No one should be turned on reading that prose, believe me. The I only time I got hot while reading the book was with rage at what James was doing to the English language.

TAGS: e.l. james | fifty shades of grey

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