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I jumped on the bandwagon before it got away, and I’ve just read ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ by the enigmatic-sounding E L James. It’s already spawned a whole host of parodies, been held responsible for a whole new literary genre – ‘Mummy Porn’- and every other day, someone on Twitter or Facebook is posting about it. In the name of journalistic research, if nothing else, I had to read it.
The general gist of the tale is that young, inexperienced Anastasia Steele happens to accidentally meet the drop-dead gorgeous and filthy rich entrepreneur Christian Grey. By about chapter four (if you’re only reading it for the mucky bits) they are tearing each other’s clothes off. But Christian is no ordinary mega-rich love God. He just happens to have, in addition to a helicopter, private jet and several cars (of course) a playroom in his super swanky apartment. And it’s not the sort of playroom you would leave your kids in.
Ana is introduced by Christian to a world of kinky BDSM sex, safe words, hard limits and a non-disclosure agreement. Of course she falls in love with him. But does he fall in love with her? And why won’t he let her touch him?
If I’m honest, the writing sucks. If I ever come across Ana’s ‘Inner Goddess’ I’m going to have to slap her and tell her to stop biting her lip, and if you’ve read the book already, you’ll know exactly what I mean by that. It’s repetitive in places and relies on rather too many ‘Holy craps’ to make its point. The mucky bits are – apart from a select few – also very repetitive, and once you get onto the second book, you might find yourself losing interest.
But it’s probably worth a read, anyway.