I always love to snuggle up with a good book on a rainy day, and since rainy days have been in abundance the last few weeks, it was a fantastic time to catch up with my reading.
I always love to snuggle up with a good book on a rainy day, and since rainy days have been in abundance the last few weeks, it was a fantastic time to catch up with my reading. More specifically: the Fifty Shades trilogy. I’m slightly ashamed to say that I couldn’t finish the Fifty Shades trilogy. I got to the beginning of the third book, when I thought, I think there’s something better I could be doing with my time… How about a slating review for Kettle? Good plan, Stan.
I started reading Fifty Shades of Grey determined to love it. It took 36 pages for me to hate it.
Christian Grey
Our first meeting of Christian Grey had me thinking of a Robert Pattinson lookalike, what with his wealth, arrogance and vaguely described beauty. As the first book goes on, and more and more is revealed about Mr Grey and his domineering ways, in my mind at least, his face became more gnarled, he grew a little shorter and began to take on the appearance of Tom Cruise: the epitome of a pretty little psychopath.
From the start, we can see that Christian Grey is not your regular kind of fling. After he takes Anastasia’s virginity and has her in the palm of his hand, he whips out his psychotic sex contract. Yes, reader, you read that right. Included in the contract are mentions of scary things like anal fisting and caning, and the rather more important matter of agreeing to be a sex slave for a period of three months. Like I said, pretty little psychopath.
As the author reveals more about the twisted mind of Christian Grey, the constant fucking – clear terminology is set out from the beginning – turns into a freak show, and as I continued to read, I did not feel turned on as so many of my friends had promised. I felt uncomfortable.
Anastasia Steele
There is something so undeniably wrong about the central relationship in Fifty Shades which boils down to the female character. The author gives us a rather insignificant female lead who drinks weak tea, works in a boring shop and wears pig tails at the age of 21. It is easy to believe how she could be lured into some weird sex game with a crazed psychopath who happens to have a killer body, but just because it’s believable doesn’t mean it makes good reading.
Anastasia is plain, boring and weak. Too weak. She barely has an opinion of her own, she has never – never – found another man attractive and, what really gets me: she has never touched her own, er, area. From the description, she dresses like a 14 year old, doesn’t wear make up and needs a friend to help her shave her armpits. Considering I am in the same age bracket, and having met my fair share of 21-year-olds, I have never met anyone like that. Not even the smelly girl who always sat in front of me in second year was immune to the charms of men. The fact that this girl is so socially inept, sexually backwards, and doesn’t know the basics of female grooming had me thinking of a girl much younger than she actually was, and I couldn’t help feeling that the Christian/Anastasia relationship was sinister rather than sexy.
The Storyline
The main point to be made here is, what storyline? I read the first of the Fifty Shades trilogy and once I’d reached the half way point, I realised… nothing whatsoever has happened. Okay, so that may be a little harsh.
The story line of Fifty Shades of Grey is as follows:
Boy meets girl
Boy has sex with girl
Boy does kinky shit to girl
Boy buys girl car
Boy has sex with girl
Boy does kinky shit to girl
Boy has sex with girl
Boy is complicated
Girl is frustrated
Boy does kinky shit to girl
Boy has sex with girl
Boy does hardcore kinky shit to girl
They break up.
I threw down the book when I reached the last page. Seriously? I moaned on Twitter at the half-way point and I was promised it “gets addictive”. This was a cruel lie, and for those of you who haven’t read the books yet, you would do well to remember that.
The Sex
I’m not a professional novelist. I have never made a character come to life. And I have never thought of a plot for a book/series/other. But writing about sex? I shall be so bold as to claim this is something I know a thing or two about.
There is no denying that the Fifty Shades books are raunchy and, on occasion, the sex scenes sound like something I would definitely like to participate in. For the most part, however, the sex scenes are either incredibly repetitive (yes, we know you like it when it touches your boobies, Anastasia), mind-numbingly boring, or totally unbelivable.
Throughout the series of books, Christian never has a problem holding his end of the bargain, if you catch my drift, and neither does Anastasia fake a headache in favour of an early night. And, what I find the most frustrating: they climax at the same time every single time. That golden moment is a rare treat for most people, and I think I speak for the masses when I say… what about fanny farts? Nothing embarrassing ever happens in when Christian and Anastasia are in bed bed, and every time they have sex it is a blissful ideal comparable to a Hollywood creation only seen in the movies. Come on, E. L. James, we all know better than that.
And then there’s the kinky shit. Call me vanilla, but as soon as I walk into a room my subconcious calls The Red Room of Pain, I am out of there faster than you can say “nipple clamps”. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s fun when the guy is the dominant one (small d) and the odd bit of kinky tomfoolery is sometimes the boost you need for a lacking sex life, but there is one quite serious matter I can’t get over. He beats her with a belt until she cries, and she goes back to him. Sure he buys her gifts, sure he’s hot, and she’s totally in love with him, but that right there is the essence of an abusive relationship.
Conclusions
All in all, I hate Fifty Shades of Grey and it is absolutely beyond me why so many people are addicted to it. If I were to self-analyse (which I won’t) I would say that the reason I can’t stand the Fifty Shades books is because of my personal preferences in the bedroom. I don’t have a Red Room of Pain, but if I did, let’s just say I’d be the one with the key. Fifty Shades readers, stop reading about it and go out there and do it, put down your books and get yourself to the bedroom. It’s time to unleash your mojo.
