You guessed it, I really didn't like the book, mind you I only read the first book of the trilogy and it was torture. Let me get it straight, I'm the sadist here, not the masochist who should suffer, it honestly was serious determination and stubbornness (it has been mentioned that I possess those qualities, the more unflattering term is actually stubborn bitch) that kept me going. Not just the story is unbelievable and so retro, the writing is bad, seriously bad. I had to force myself to not throw it into a corner or to whimper loudly, I did swear a bit though!
Instead of going on and on, somebody said it all before and possibly better than I could:
I just copied and pasted some quotes, that's what you're getting in for if you buy the book:
It is pretty bad, honestly, in my view it is cliche ridden granny porn, I know they dubbed it mommy porn but most mothers are possibly not that prude and have steamier sex, I mean the sexual revolution has happened, hasn't it? The pill, free love and all that, 60's and 70's, the glorious days we only hear about, when women had contraception and nothing you could catch couldn't be taken care of by a few shots of penicillin. As long as you block out the thought that your own parents were possibly part of it (I think I made myself sick with that train of thought), it sounds like the golden age of the sexual liberation (though there wasn't much personal grooming or manscaping going on, eeek), no scare of AIDS.
Getting a bit of track here, but I had a lot of conversations with a friend about the difference in the generations, for somebody who didn't grow up and into their own sexuality with the threat of AIDS, it might be pretty hard to understand why we are so terrified of it. I recall that the idea of losing my virginity was completely overshadowed by being afraid of AIDS, contraception was easy to get, the pill, condoms, etc. But AIDS... I was never a fan of Queen but you couldn't escape their music, Freddy Mercury wasting away and dying - it wasn't something that made you particularly horny, even as a randy teenager... But I digress...
Luckily I didn't spend money on the book, borrowed it from a friend, other half was quite excited, he had heard that women get all frisky when reading it, so he didn't mind me reading it in bed (usually always a bit of an issue "I can't sleep when you got the light on...") but you know what, it actually turned me off and he was even more upset. Not just because I really didn't want to jump his bones after dutifully slogging through some pages, but because I kept him awake by swearing loudly and annoying him with comments like "What the f***? Couldn't they afford an editor? This isn't even Mills and Boon level, it's freaking awful..."
Seriously, I'm not a prude, but one review said it would get women's mind away from the laundry and into sex, didn't work for me, before I read part 2 and 3, I think I'd rather do laundry for a whole week, it's less annoying and mentally and sexually more stimulating.
I don't hate the author, in fact, I'm a bit envious and yeah, if I could make money from writing such shit, I totally would. Sod artistic integrity, I'd be laughing all the way to the bank, but I think I would have used a pen name, and then I'd possibly invest some of the fortune I made into creative writing classes. But hey, it's not a bad gig if you can get it.
In a way I am fascinated by the book, or rather the people who get turned on by it. I can't get over the fact that women in this day and age find abusive relationships a turn on, nothing wrong with kinky but manipulating is just not fun.
Christian (the "hero") is not only unrealistic, he's also really fucked up. In our teens we possibly all fell once or twice for an emotionally unavailable guy and suffered for it (I had Mr Terminal Zipper Problem - nice guy, very good looking, just couldn't keep his dick to himself and yes, it ended badly - in case he stumbles across this, sorry that I broke a plate on your head but the bleached bitch was seriously too much) but we all grew up.
Maybe that's the key? The women who like 50 Shades of Poo got the whole guilt thing about sexuality internalized, a bit like a rape fantasy, they're not in control, they're not guilty, because after all sex is something that good girls don't really enjoy... I thank my lucky stars that I ceased to be a good girl a long time ago and I don't need a controlling and emotionally damaged dick (pun intended) to give me orgasms...
I possibly can't stop anybody from reading the book, but I'd hope that anybody who spends money on it will at least consider giving part of that money to a charity, preferably one for abused women!
I climb off my soap box now!