Fifty Shades of Red: My view of the newest publishing phenomonon.
The Fifty Shades of Grey Trilogy, by British author E.L. James, Fifty Shades Darker and Fifty Shades Freed took the top three spots on USA TODAY’s Best-Selling Books list with the first book being in the No. 1 spot for three weeks. Even with this amazing success, James does have her fair share of critics.
While I really don’t consider myself a prude, this book is pretty much straight porn. In saying that, if porn is what you are looking for, then it’s a great read. As an author, I tend to be more critical than I should, so I tried reading this book with an open mind. I was warned the book started slow. It did. The main character, Anastasia Steele, was fairly interesting, but thoroughly unbelievable the farther I read. She is about to graduate from college and she is a virgin. Ok, before I start receiving hate mail, let me just say it is not unbelievable that she is a virgin. It’s unbelievable that this chaste state is not because of some moral or religious conviction. Furthermore, she appears to be attractive, intelligent and have a great personality. Her reason for remaining abstinent was that she never met anyone she liked in that way.
Really?
No one tickled her fancy enough for her to be interested at all? If that was the case, I would think she would be more interested in having a relationship with her longtime female roommate. It’s because of the roommate’s illness, that Ana meets and instantly falls for the enigmatic, handsome, young billionaire entrepreneur, Christian Grey. From the first time the character is introduced, you know something is not quite right about him. Thank God he wasn’t a vampire, but at least that would explain the instant and overwhelming attraction. Granted, it’s easy to be attracted to a good looking man with money, but that is not what she sees in him. For whatever reason, he is also instantly attracted to her. Though he states it’s due to her innocence and naivety, he is shocked when he discovers she is a virgin. Before he can introduce her to his particular predilection of bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism, he has to “deflower” her with regular “vanilla” sex. During their first encounter, she admits to never having had an orgasm or ever masturbating.
Really? I mean, come on. How did she make it through four years of college without being at least a little curious about SOMETHING sexual?
Fine. Even if I were to go along with that part of the story, when they do actually have sex it was a magical carpet ride into sexual pleasure. I know this is fiction, but I don’t know anyone whose first sexual experience was anything but a virtual disaster. It’s a wonder we ever actually try it a second time.
Now after she is “broken in” he reveals that he only wants a slave/master relationship with her, and she has to agree to his terms by signing a contract. So I’m supposed to believe she goes from 0 to 100 on her sexual pedometer in a matter of days? The most troubling part of the book was the story surrounding why Christian had his particular fetish.
Though handsome and unbelievably rich, Christian is spoiled, rude, bossy, arrogant and smarmy.
Even then, I was still trying to hang on. But there was one thing that lost me – the story.
Fifty Shade of Grey wasn’t something that I would have normally have picked out to read, but I picked it up on the recommendation of a friend. Typically, I enjoy mysteries and thrillers and though I’ve heard there is a bit more intrigue in the next two books in the series, the lack of any real story in the first book, left me a bit on the empty side. I applaud James for touching the souls and nether regions of today’s women, but with the exception of being written from the female perspective, the plot is not much different from the porno movies teenagers sneak out of their dad’s bedroom.
