After the dramatic success of the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy – with over 100 million copies sold worldwide – the long-anticipated film has hit cinemas this Valentine’s Day.

Some are hailing this as a new wave of sexual liberation. Erotic novels moved from the dark and illicit corners of bookshops, to take pride of place by the entrance next to the cooking books. Sales of sex toys rocketed; Boots expanded its range to cope with the surge in demand.

You can even buy a Fifty Shades of Grey teddy bear.

This is remarkable, given that for centuries our society perpetuated the myth that women couldn’t experience sexual pleasure. For some, Fifty Shades seem to depict a complete rejection of these restrictive notions, giving women greater freedom of expression. This empowers women to strive for even greater freedoms, challenging social norms and confines.

And yet beneath this gloss of glamour and the illusion of liberation is a sinister theme of power and possession that I find deeply troubling. Take this quotation, for example:

"So you felt demeaned, debased, abused and assaulted – how very Tess Durbeyfield of you. I believe it was you who decided on the debasement if I remember correctly. Do you really feel like this or do you think you ought to feel like this?"

"Do you think you could just try and embrace these feelings, deal with them, for me? That’s what a submissive would do."

Now I’ve never read Fifty Shades of Grey – nor do I intend to – but from quotes like this I have to say it seems far removed from the ‘liberation’ that the glamour and hype may lead us to expect.

To start off with, Tess Durbeyfield was a Thomas Hardy character subjected to social exclusion, rural poverty and rape. I don’t know about you, but to me this doesn’t exactly seem to be the epitome of liberation. Equating her with a sex symbol trivialises the tragedy of her situation. It supports the stereotypical Victorian ideal of the pure, virginal woman as a tool for men to use and corrupt. In a society that is only now beginning to introduce equal pay and opportunities for both genders, this reveals a frightening tendency to slip back into these out-dated views that held women back for so long.

Grey insidiously undermines Ana’s autonomy, and the validity of her own opinions. She is no longer allowed to trust her own emotions ("Do you really feel like this?"), instead relying on him to inform her how she should feel, how she should respond to these feelings.

The way that Ana is told to respond is through suppression. She should "deal with" her inconvenient emotions, making herself more available to Grey, and defining herself purely in relation to his needs.

He even distorts her perceptions of the past, forcing her to question her own memory and raising the issue of consent: did Ana really choose this ‘debasement’ herself?

There is nothing inherently wrong with sexual dominance. But in this case the imbalance of power extends outside of the bedroom and pervades the entire relationship. Ana finds her work, her time, and her other relationships increasingly removed from her control.

These issues are symptomatic of an abusive relationship. Ana is controlled by Grey, manipulated by him and ultimately defined by him. Where is the liberation in being "abused and assaulted"?

As the ever growing popularity of Fifty Shades continues to permeate our culture, this could have dangerous implications for perceptions of women and sexuality. By placing this in the public domain and the mainstream media, it makes abuse appear acceptable, desirable even. It provides controlling or violent partners with a way of legitimising their actions: how can this be wrong if it’s part of the social norm, if it’s sexy?

Far from being a liberating force, the books glamourise the use of manipulation in relationships. Not only is Ana chided for daring to express opinions that may be contrary to Grey’s own – an inconvenient obstruction to the pursuit of his own satisfaction – but she is made to feel guilt for her emotions.

"That’s what a submissive would do." In this statement, Ana isn’t even human. She is not valued as an individual, but for the services that she can provide. "A submissive." The implication is that she could be anyone, a nameless object used for Grey’s own sexual gratification.

And the thing I find most worrying: this is the best-selling book in Britain since records began.