BabyLovesChelsea is a light-hearted account of life as a housewife and new mum living in Chelsea. On the blog, she shares the best of London SW3 and surrounding areas and all she has learnt so far about being a mum and a wife – from the fun to the practical. You can find her on Facebook too.
It's been done ad nauseam: book reviews, and especially of this one. Nonetheless, considering the fuss around it, it surely deserves another one? So here it goes: 50 Shades of Grey, my review.
So my curiosity finally peeked and I succumbed to start reading this book, the book that has taken popular culture by storm, out-performing the Harry Potter books (flabbergasted) and has been read by friends and acquaintances around the world.
'Have you read 50 Shades of Grey?' a friend asked. 'It's quite something. Very addictive' she admonished.
What was it about this book that has created such hype and hysteria amongst, well, everyone!?
So you could imagine that I expected some sort of brilliance, a book that marvels you with its prose and insight. It seems, I was somewhat mislead. Well, maybe I'm being a bit harsh. Let's break it down.
The written style
Frankly, it's equivalent to an amateurs: repetitive, lazy sentence structure, and mundane vocabulary. But ok let's forgive that for now. Moving on.
The storyline
Well, it is banal and boring, what can I say? Shy young girl, coming of age (ish) has a major crush on rich, handsome, businessman and, oh my, he likes her too? (You don't say) But wait, he has a deep dark secret? Blah blah. Fine, let's set that aside for now. Next.
OK let's address the racy element. More than anything, you actually, seriously feel awkward and embarrassed while reading it! You may even crack up at the somewhat cheesy and/or right-out odd and very graphic descriptions (eeek! cringe!), but you'll carry on out of curiosity, with slightly diminished shame now that you've reminded yourself that women all over are glancing over the same exact text.
But take a step back for a minute, this is exactly the sort of thing us ladies were raised not to read or do, at least not in polite society. It's actually quite humiliating. So I ask you, why did all this suddenly become openly 'ok'?! Not to sound prissy or prude, but surely this is crossing some line. A very creepy one.
The verdict
So what are we left with? Trite, poor quality, x-rated literature, sadly, written by the author E L James.
And why would you read it? Well, for one, it might just make your husband hopeful, and secondly, if adult content is your bag, go for it. You'll have a ball.
I say, ladies, protect your dignity: put the book down, and stop waxing lyrical about it. Visit Amazon, pick something else out, and fill your minds with something more virtuous and worthwhile.
Happy reading!
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