Fifty Shades of Garbage

Perhaps you can grasp from the title, that I, too, have hopped on the band wagon and read (or at least tried to) the over-sensationalized Fifty Shades of Grey. Yes, I did, just to see why it has caused so much stir.

Bottomline? It’s pure rubbish. I just had to stop reading after seeing “He cocks his head to one side” for the fourth time in three chapters. I didn’t even bother trying to read further and get to the graphic part (which the book is all about). Now I wonder: Why is there such a hype over something this badly written? I am no writer, but I sure have read enough to differentiate a well-crafted piece of work from those that are not. I am aware of its origins as a fan fiction, but it should have had some more decent editing — if it had one at all. The vocabulary’s limited, the words and phrases are repetitive, and sentence structures are so poor my face still aches from all the face palms.

If you still aren’t convinced yet, let me share some terrible lines from the book:

• “His voice is warm and husky like dark melted chocolate fudge caramel…or something.”
• “He reaches between my legs and pulls on the blue string… what! And… a gently pulls my tampon out and tosses it into the nearby toilet. Holy fuck. Sweet mother of all… Jeez.”
• “He’s my very own Christian Grey popsicle.”
• “Feel it baby.”
• “Grabbing it quickly, I squirt toothpaste on it and brush my teeth in double quick time. I feel so naughty. It’s such a thrill.”
• “The elevator whisks me with terminal velocity to the twentieth floor.”
• “Laters, baby.”

I have deduced that probably the reason the book is so popular is because it is specifically targeted at ignorant and/or functionally illiterate people whose opinions are easily swayed by others. They are demented with the inclination that it is a fine work of literature because they don’t usually read, which gives them no basis for comparison. I know that getting upset over the literary merit(or lack thereof) of Fifty Shades of Grey is strangely joining the band wagon too — apparently, it has received lots of bashing — but I cannot resist ranting. There are way more talented writers sinking their teeth into writing good stuff who deserve E.L. James’ sales.

I could not reiterate more how inexcusably bad this novel is — and it kills me to call it one. But until I publish a book that sells 125 million copies, I’m in no position to be snotty, am I? Makes one wonder why it ever made the bestseller’s list. Is this what humanity has come to?

If you are reading/read it AND enjoyed it, I assume that you are either an a) 50 year old bored housewife who’s having a crazed sexual fantasy; or b) a horny teenager exploring his/her sexuality for the first time. Otherwise, you and your brain deserve better than to be wasted on viral, irresponsibly written garbage. Trust me.

If you are in it for the smut, I say just go get yourself porn or just get laid instead, for Christ’s sake.