25 1/2 Shades of Mauve

Okay.  I swore to myself, I even swore on my father's grave, that I wouldn't justify the existence of this book by blogging about it.   After today, however, when someone I admire(d)? greatly mentioned it as something that might make worthwhile reading, I just couldn't stop myself.
  Unless you've been hiding under a rock there is a trilogy of books, which are being labelled as 'Erotic Novels" by the author E.L. James. (a pen name, perhaps)?  The first one is called "50 Shades of Grey".  I'll confess I haven't read  the book itself, but I've read PLENTY of excerpts, as I've struggled to figure out what the appeal of such a story could be.
For those of you who still don't know what I'm on about, I direct you to this wonderful blog post.
http://www.readreactreview.com/2012/01/30/50-things-about-50-shades-of-grey/#.T430EqtO_dU

  Are you finished reading?   Have you stopped laughing?  Here's my point.  A long time ago, in this same galaxy, there was-ok, there still is-, a genre of writing called 'erotica'  D.H. Lawrence's "Lady Chatterly's Lover" fits into it.  So does Henry Miller's "Tropic of Cancer"   Not to mention the rather enigmatic author Anais Nin, who wrote several novellas which fit into the genre.  Let me find an excerpt of her work
WARNING:  this is not work safe, AND, if you have any kids, tweens, teens etc, tell them to stop reading over your shoulder.
"He not on­ly con­tin­ued to kiss her as if he were drink­ing her whole mouth, tongue, breath, in­to his big dark mouth, but his hands mauled her, pressed deeply in­to her flesh, leav­ing marks and pain ev­ery­where. She was moist and trem­bling, open­ing her legs and try­ing to climb over him. She tried to open his pants.

'There is time,' he said. 'There is plen­ty of time. We are go­ing to stay in this room for days. There is a lot of time for both of us.'

Then he turned away and got un­dressed. He had a gold­en-brown body, a pe­nis as smooth as the rest of his body, big, firm as a pol­ished wood ba­ton. She fell on him and took it in­to her mouth. His fin­gers went ev­ery­where, in­to her anus, in­to her sex; his tongue, in­to her mouth, in­to her ears. He bit at her nip­ples, he kissed and bit her bel­ly. She was try­ing to sat­is­fy her hunger by rub­bing against his leg, but he would not let her. He bent her as if she were made of rub­ber, twist­ed her in­to ev­ery po­si­tion. With his two strong hands he took what­ev­er part of her he was hun­gry for and brought it up to his mouth like a morsel of food, not car­ing how the rest of her body fell in­to space. Just so, he took her ass be­tween his two hands, held it to his mouth, and bit and kissed her. She begged, 'Take me, An­to­nio, take me, I can't wait!' He would not take her.

By this time the hunger in her womb was like a rag­ing fire. She thought that it would drive her in­sane. What­ev­er she tried to do to bring her­self to an or­gasm, he de­feat­ed. If she even kissed him too long he would break away. As she moved, the big belt made a clink­ing sound, like the chain of a slave. She was now in­deed the slave of this enor­mous brown man. He ruled like a king. Her plea­sure was sub­or­di­nat­ed to his. She re­al­ized she could do noth­ing against his force and will. He de­mand­ed sub­mis­sion. Her de­sire died in her from sheer ex­haus­tion. All the taut­ness left her body. She be­came as soft as cot­ton. In­to this he delved with greater ex­ul­tan­cy. His slave, his pos­ses­sion, a bro­ken body, pant­ing, mal­leable, grow­ing soft­er un­der his fin­gers. His hands searched ev­ery nook of her body, leav­ing noth­ing un­touched, knead­ing it, knead­ing it to suit his fan­cy, bend­ing it to suit his mouth, his tongue, press­ing it against his big shin­ing white teeth, mark­ing her as his'

Oh, fan yourself, take a cold shower, whatever. ;)

    Holy cats, that gal could write.  Most romance writers should take notes.  Yes, it's a graphic scene, but there's emotion, and feeling behind it.   There is no profanity, no barnyard animals(ie roosters and kitty cats--do I really have to explain further?)   That said, it's not what I would read on a regular basis, but the writing is excellent, the emotion is there.  It's not just sex, for sex's sake.

   And I suppose that's my point. "50 Shades" with its sadomasochism, its demeaning portrayal of a young, naive woman getting an 'education' at the hands of an older, urbane, man who controls her throughout the first book, is well, harmful to anyone who reads it.     The sex scenes are even more graphic than what I quoted above, and they are so clinically written it's almost like an instruction manual.   There does not seem to be much love between Christian Grey and Anna, and the whole idea of her 'redeeming and saving' a 'brooding and emotionally damaged man' as so many of the trilogy's fans protest the story is truly about , well that's just not realistic.  Besides, Charlotte Bronte did it much better in "Jane Eyre", and I don't think Jane and Edward ever did the mattress mambo.  In print, anyway. :P

  It's disturbing to hear that young girls are reading this and blogging, texting and IMing that "Christian Grey is so hawt'!  It's even more disturbing to know that wives are reading it in bed while their husbands ask for attention(and I'm not necessarily talking about SEXUAL attention"!  It is supremely upsetting to me, a single woman that both men and women are reading this and thinking Christian and Anna's story is the model for a good relationship. This book is a fantasy, and sometimes, fantasies can be dangerous.

  I suppose that's all I have to say.   Just my .02 for what it's worth.  A healthy relationship, as anyone who has worked to have one knows, is work.  And when it works, it's about so much, MUCH more, than sex.  

.PS-I still do admire the person whose comment inspired me to write this.   And, if he's reading this post,  I hope he never, EVER reads that Infernal Book.  You are so much better than that, dear Walter. Trust me. ;)