When Fifty Shades of Grey first came out, I refused to jump on the hype bandwagon but it didn’t last long. I soon crumbled after feeling completely alienated because I had no idea what all the bloody fuss was about.
Getting hold of a copy was a complete ball-ache. None of the supermarkets had it in stock and when I tried to reserve it at the library, there were 26 people before me on the waiting list. I did eventually take a look at the first chapter online but I was quick to dismiss it as a load of old tosh.
And the term ‘Mummy Porn’ is wrong on so many levels, btw.
But now, OMG, and I’m not frightened to admit it either. I’m absolutely captivated by the human conundrum that is Christian Grey. I know people have criticised and analysed the book to death but isn’t it merely just a modern variation of a simple fairytale story?
Innocent female gets saved/seduced/sexualised by a handsome/successful/mysterious prince, female surrenders independence/integrity/virginity to say thanks and to demonstrate how much she’s falling in love with him. Prince reveals dark side/emotional issues/sexual perversions and the female forgives/fixes/bakes him a cake to prove that she completes him and ultimately makes him a better person.
If you look at the book for what it is. It’s a typical textbook romance with a bit of jiggy jiggy thrown in. I found it an enjoyable piece of erotic fiction. It certainly tickled my fancy and as rightfully reflected in the book’s success, it tickled the fancy of many others.
But, doesn’t that actually say more about our fellas, really?
There’s obviously a shed-load of horny women out there who’d rather be doing something far more interesting in bed than read a book.
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