Perhaps an explanation is in order. One of my goals for this
year was to read more, shooting for fifty new books by year’s end. My reading
list includes classic literature, pop culture icons, self-improvement books, at
least one religious doctrine, tales long forgotten from my youth, and a
smattering of books that I’ll “get to someday”.
I wanted a mix of serious, thought provoking tomes, and simpler, fun
stories, so I have Dante’s Divine Comedy alongside the Stainless Steel Rat, Shakespeare
next to Neil Gaiman, etc. I was curious about “Fifty Shades” since it
made such a big fuss a few years ago, so I figured I would throw it into one of
the “simple” slots, and see just how bad it was. After going through “A Game of
Thrones” and “Flowers for Algernon”, I needed something to cheer me up, and
thought I would go with “Fifty Shades”, hoping it was “so bad it’s good” and I
could laugh at it. Little did I know…
Just in case you’ve managed to avoid this hot mess of a
story, the book starts with our heroine Anastasia Steele interviewing millionaire Christian Grey, and at the tender
age of 21, falling in love for the first time in her entire life. Christen
falls in love back, for no adequately explained reason, starts stalking Ana (he
tracks her to a bar through her cell phone), and they eventually date. But OH
NO! Christian is a control freak who likes bondage, and Ana is a sweet innocent
virgin! He wants her to sign a contract (which is written in its entirety in
the middle of the book) saying that she’ll be submissive to him, and do
everything he says. They argue over it a lot, fuck like bunnies every chance
they get, bring up a lot of plot points that go nowhere (they’re probably resolved
in the sequels, but I’ll never know), and finally Ana tells Christian to punish
her, then breaks up with him after he spanks her, ending the book in “the dark
morning of her soul” (actual quote). Highlights include the aforementioned
contract, written in the same thrilling legalese used in every one of those”
terms and conditions” agreements that you skip over when you install a new
program, Christian declaring “I don’t make love. I Fuck” (ruining that word for
me forever), the complete lack of the word “vagina” in an erotic novel (She CONSTANTLY
calls it her “sex”. WTF?), and the moral that if a girl keeps asking you embarrassing
questions about your past, stick your tongue in her mouth and your hand down
her pants, and she’ll completely forget what she was saying.
While I’m aware the rest of the world has already come to
this conclusion, but this was one of the worst books I’ve ever seen. So then
why am I so happy I read it? Because this thing was published. Because people have paid money to read it.
Because it became popular. Because it became a trilogy AND a freakin’ movie.
One of the biggest reasons I don’t write more stuff is
because I’m horribly self conscience about what I write. I’m always worried
that whatever I write won’t be good enough or that someone has already done it,
and if I even start, I almost always give up half-way through as that
negativity creeps into my mind. I know on a logical level, this is a stupid idea
and a bad habit, that I need to practice and that there will be bad results at
first, especially early on. But this is an emotional issue for me, and emotions
are rarely logical in my experience.
But I know I’ll write never anything worse than “Fifty
Shades”. I’m not sure it’s possible. I legitimately think that this book should
be used in college writing classes as a “how not to write” guide. Before this
book, I knew academically what purple prose was (the overuse of descriptions
and artsy language), but now I UNDERSTAND it and just how distracting it can be.
This book is boring, stupid, and immoral. And I don’t mean the bondage; that’s
actually pretty tame compared to some stuff I’ve seen, and whatever happens
between consenting adults is none of my business. But Christian Grey is the
worst kind of person. So much of the story is about how he must control the
woman in his life. Ladies, if your man wants to dictate exactly what foods you
eat, clothes you wear, how often you can touch him, AND how many hours of sleep
you get, or if he’s ever called you a “conquest,” you might want to take a long
look at your relationship. Love is not about control, it’s a partnership
between equals.
I seem to be rambling a bit, but ya know what? I don’t care!
It actually feels good to type up something, and hopefully I can keep this
going. If this “book” can be published, than what the hell am I afraid of? I
never wanted to be the next Heinlein, just to put out some little stories that
might make people smile and/or think. Hell, maybe one of my erotic fan fictions
will get published some day. I will warn
you if that happens though. I'm not sure one can see someone stick that many hammers up a turtle's butt and walk away with their sanity intact.
