According to section 4, “The Dominant and the Submissive each warrant that they suffer from no … illnesses.” Great-there’s nothing like inappropriate sales-contract jargon to dampen ardor.Section 3 also says that “all that occurs under the terms of the contract … will be subject to the agreed limits and safety procedures set out in this contract.” Redundant!.And what do they agree and acknowledge? That “all that occurs under the terms of this contract will be consensual.” That’s language of policy, suggesting that all acts will automatically be consensual. Section 3 says “The Dominant and the Submissive agree and acknowledge.” Hmm-two categories of contract language, neither of them appropriate.Let’s consider just a few of the contract’s failings: Grey is a telecommunications mogul, and he has evidently absorbed the semi-literate contract verbiage regurgitated by his high-priced lawyers. Steele might be at risk of falling asleep before the first thwack of a riding crop, or whatever.

But based on the ponderous and mealy-mouthed prose of his contract, he’s no hunka hunka burning S&M love. If I could be bothered to read the book itself, I might end up with a more rounded view of the Mr. But I saw in Dowd’s column that the first volume, “ Fifty Shades of Grey ,” contains a contract, so of course in the name of art I had to check it out.įive minutes later and $9.99 poorer, there before me on my Kindle was the contract in question, in chapter 11. After all, I’m hardly in the target demographic. (The names alone scream “Crushingly banal!”)Įven though I apparently live in the epicenter of this phenomenon, I had been prepared to ignore it. I had been vaguely aware of the “Fifty Shades” trilogy, described in this Maureen Dowd column as “bondage-themed romanticas that have evoked hysteria, whipping up a frenzy with the housewives of Long Island and rippling out from there.” They feature a dashing mogul, Christian Grey, and the object of his stern affections, the winsome Anastasia Steele.

Christian grey's contract