OK, I’ll admit it. It took me a few weeks, but I finally followed the herd mentality that I know I have, and went out and got the damn thing.
You know what I’m talking about right? That stupid book. No, not the Hunger Games. That book is actually well written and worth the praise and popularity that it has garnered (though, in true herd fashion I didn’t get into that book until the movie had already broken all advance presale ticket records…though I suppose at least I didn’t wait until it was actually in the theaters).
That book that they keep calling Mommy Porn. Ick, I hate to admit it.
Fifty Shades of Grey, I type sheepishly. That one.
I bought it last week. Everyone I know is reading the damn thing, and I figured I might as well just give in to the hype. Sure, I’d read that the writing was kind of weak. I’d heard that it originally was written and posted onto the internet as Twilight Fan Fiction. Now, since I have already admitted what a trend follower I am, this would actually be a point in its favor; I loved the Twilight books. Not great literature there, either, but compelling stories with at least passable writing.
Still, even after I gave into the impulse to buy the book, I resisted. First, the bookseller asked if I wanted to buy all three at once: “Most everyone does,” my little local bookshop lady told me. But no, I responded. “I am hoping I hate this book so much that I won’t want to buy all three, actually,” I told her. This again flies in the face of my past history. Hunger Games Trilogy: 8 days, three books. Twilight: 17 days, four books. The Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon: 35 days, six books. I am a voracious series reader, going all the way back to the Little House and Anne of Green Gables books of my childhood. Is there any reason to think this Grey series will be any different?
God, I hope so.
I bought the book on Thursday and put it in a drawer. I didn’t even want to leave it out where the kids or husband would see it. Ick. And all weekend long, I had no desire to read it, honestly. But today, with a yawning day without much on my “to do” list, I gave in. I opened the book.
Two hours and 124 pages later, I am still not impressed. The writing is peppered with oddly big words and strangely chosen details, repeated phrases and obvious foreshadowing. I actually exclaimed “this is really horrible” more than once. Honestly, the only thing that kept me at it for two full hours was the very plain direction the story was headed in….and it took excruciatingly long to get there. And yes, knowing Bella and Edward’s story as intimately I do (I am certainly not opposed to brain candy now and then), the linkages to the work that inspired this one are plain and clear.
There can really only be one reason these books are so successful. It isn’t the likeability of the characters or the sweeping vistas painted with glorious language or the compelling story. It is, of course, what everyone is saying it is.
It’s the sex.
That part, my friends, better live up to the hype!