I read the Twilight Books. Every stinkin’ one. Someone told me “if you liked Twilight, you’ll love 50 Shades of Grey.” I wish I could remember who said that so I could kick their ass. I’m no book critic but I know crap when I see it.
The initial 50 Shades hype has fizzled but the upcoming release of the movie is causing women worldwide to get twitterpated about the hot-hot-hot trailer and the perpetually dysfunctional horndog with mommy issues that is Christian Grey.
By the way, if you’ve been hiding under a rock, haven’t read the book, and you are the type who gets upset about possible movie “spoilers,” then turn around right now.
Don’t pass GO, don’t collect $200.
This book series is fan fiction written by someone who didn’t think Twilight was sexy enough. It’s a little creepy that someone thought a book about high school kids needed more nooky. Granted, one kid had been 17 for a really long time, but still. Ew.
The storyline mimics Twilight in character description and basic demographics. Awkward girl meets smokin’ hot, emotionally distant rich dude. Girlfriend is drawn to him, like a fly to cow poop, in spite of the fact that he’s a textbook commitment-phobe with (what anyone who can spell “psychology” can recognize) abandonment issues.
There are three books to the series, but I’ll confess I didn’t finish. Somewhere during the first chapter of the third book, I asked myself “why am I reading this crap?” and stepped away from the Kindle.
To give you a short recap, Edward Christian initially tries to push Bella Anastasia away, despite the oh-so-powerful attraction. Once he decided Bellastasia was the gal for him, he handed her a contract specifying how she’d be his on-call sex toy for shenanigans in his “red room of pain.” Anyone who’s seen The Good Wife can figure out this contract isn’t legally binding, but girlfriend fretted over it like it was the Magna Carta. Do I really need to mention that Christian Grey likes a side order of freaky with his morning grits?
Despite the fact that our commitment-phobic hottie wants a regular romp devoid of emotion, these two predictably fall in love. Although his controlling nature freaks Bellastasia out, their courtship moves at warp speed. They were honeymooning when I decided I said “take this book and shove it.” I’m assuming they lived freakily ever, after but if there was some kind of plot twist, I’m blissfully ignorant.
Why I don’t like this book:
Double standard:
We chuckle about the suburban mom getting hot and bothered reading detailed accounts of BDSM sex while sitting in the carpool line. Mommy porn sounds harmless, right? Flip the script and I bet we’re not okay with a guy reading “daddy porn” at soccer practice. We’d give that guy major stink eye and get our kids the hell out of there.
Bad examples:
This isn’t a healthy ideal for young women. Girls the world over are romanticizing controlling behavior. Bellastasia lets her man pick her clothes and control her social calendar. She snivels about lack of control, but happily accepts all kind of expensive presents and calls it good. Are we sending the message that it’s okay if the guy is a controlling douchebag if he buys us cool stuff?
We shouldn’t send the message to young women that absence of autonomy is okay. I understand the allure of having a guy buy you expensive shit when you fret about having a bad day. Having an oh-so-discreet live in maid wash your undies and make you pancakes after a night of debauchery? Who wouldn’t like that? But finding lack of control over your decision making sexy, just because the guy is hot and rich? Just no.
Crap writing:
Aside from the fact that the plot is a shameless Twilight copycat, and that it sends an unhealthy message to women, my inner grammar Nazi goes apoplectic by about Chapter Four. A sex scene that reads as if it were written by a fourteen year old isn’t sexy.
I can overlook a few run-on sentences, but the sex in these books isn’t anywhere in the ballpark of realism. These two fools hump like bunnies on blue meth. Won’t your willy fall off if you do it that much?
If the answer is anything other than yes, don’t tell my husband, k? I’m already rocking the low expectations in the bedroom.
If you’re looking for a good dirty book, look elsewhere. If getting lost in the slap and tickle between an insecure college girl and a control freakity freak sounds like a good way to spend a couple of lazy afternoons (trust me, this a quick read) then rock on, but I’ve pretty much just told you the plot so you don’t have to put yourself through the agony. You’re welcome.
So, did you read it? Are you going to watch the movie? Not me…and if I do, I’ll totally sneak it on Netflix and never tell a soul.