50 Shades of Grey??
Well I did say I would read this book or more precisely the trilogy, for there are 3 books in this series. I mean which aspiring author wouldn’t like to emulate E.L James’ success and gain the Number 1, 2 and 3 spots in the world wide best seller lists. I know I would. Even with just the one title. And so I fired up my trusty Kindle and downloaded the complete series. Suitably armed I headed off to work determined to read some each day in my hour long lunch break.
I had read about the books of course and seen them on the bookshelves. I knew they were based loosely on the Twilight series but as I have never read Twilight nor seen the films I would be flying blind on that one. I also knew they had been described as chick porn and even mummy porn as initially they appealed to over 30s ladies. Hmmmm this would be interesting. Certainly this genre of writing is not one I would normally read but I decided to go ahead and read away, if possible from a neutral position.
The first two lunchtimes were OK. I read away expecting to be … well I don’t know? Excited, turned on, blinded by Ms James literary style; at the very least I expected a revelation as regards to writing as pertaining to my own style. I think I finally hit some ‘action’ on lunchtime three. The moment of BDSM was upon me and oh what a disappointment.
The style is almost one that I remember from schoolboy porn chat. Now women may find Ms James descriptions a turn on but for me and I would think to many men they are incredibly twee. A kind of ‘uncensored’ Mills & Boon. She almost gives BDSM itself a kind of warm fuzziness associated with fluffy kittens and grannies home cooking. Disappointed? I should say so.
I found the book to be repetitive and formulaic with an all-encompassing feeling of ‘been done ‘beforeness’ that left me bored and distracted by the simplest things. One lunchtime I was in fact so unimpressed that I found myself playing with the alarm settings on my watch rather than reading on.
And so by the time a week of lunchtimes had passed I gave up. My Kindle not having page numbers told me I had read 42% of 50 Shades of Grey. So I suppose I had experienced 21 of those Shades. Personally I found the whole of my experience of the book to contain just the one very lacklustre and plain Shade.
So to sum it up? Well if you enjoy rather infantile sexual ramblings. If you like your reading to be undisturbed by any semblance of plot or character interest then be taken in by the hype and read this book. Otherwise I suggest following in Ms Anastasia Steele’s footsteps and reading Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbervilles instead which even without any of the sexual naiveté of 50 Shades is a thousand times more risqué and full of sexual steaminess.