I may or may not live under a rock sometimes, which is why I only recently (about two days ago) found out about the popular series by E.L. James, starting with 50 Shades of Grey. After reading about less than half the book, I couldn’t afford to torture myself any longer.
Wikipedia it if you want to know more. But in a nutshell, the book is an adult version of Twilight without the vampire shit, and comprises of sex, sex, oh! and sex.
After reading this review [http://screencrush.com/50-shades-of-grey-movie/], I didn’t know how to put my opinion together more eloquently than that. It’s one of the most hilarious and truthful reviews I’ve ever read.
One of my favourite parts of the review:
Throughout the book, Anastasia is slowly exposed to Christian’s “dark” world and his “Red Room of Pain,” which is just a room with a bunch of sex toys in it, but apparently we have to get all silly about it. I mean, we don’t call the kitchen the “White Room of Yummy” or the living room the “TV Room of Couching.” Anastasia is a cipher for purity, though, which means she’s a 14 year old girl in a 21 year old woman’s body and for a good hour after I started reading it I wondered when she’d get her first period, and then I worried that we’d get 20 pages on how much it freaked her out.
And Britt Hayes (the author of the review) is absolutely right in saying how the book is only perpetuating the misconceptions surrounding relationships, BDSM, women, and sex in general.
And so it’s no surprise that ’50 Shades of Grey’ has become so wildly popular with women of all ages because we’ve been made to feel repressed and believe that porn is just this primitive, icky thing guys watch. If porn is a cave-drawing and ’50 Shades’ is Monet, I think we need to invent fire already so we can burn this thing down. Who do you think has more dignity? A woman in a porn film or Anastasia in ’50 Shades of Grey’? Trick question. The answer is Aunt Jemima. A bottle of vaguely racist maple syrup has more dignity than you if you took more than a second to realize that pornography is more thoughtful and respectful of women than this “novel.”
I reckon the author of that review is a better writer than E.L. James. Full to the brim with misplaced words, grammar fails, and redundancies, I don’t know what people are thinking calling 50 Shades of Grey ‘good literature’. I mean, if I read “Stop biting your lip” or “inner goddess” one more time, I might start pulling my hair out.
What’s more, they’re making it into a movie! I’ll wait until it comes out before I start talking about that one.
What are your thoughts on 50 Shades of garbage grey?
Artistic Peregrination 