50 Shades a Dey Part 6: I’s Hads Alls I Can Stands and I Can’t Stands No More

People who know me know that I have a peculiar personality trait. I cannot lose to an inanimate object. If you beat me, that’s fine. I can accept that there are people who are smarter/faster/stronger/prettier than me. However, inanimate objects exist solely to be bent to my will. A thing is not better than me, it is a thing..

This attitude, much to the chagrin of my wife and my boss, has often resulted in minor injuries as I refused to let a ramp tell me what to do.  Being self aware enough to realize this about myself has resulted in minor annoyance by my friends as I refused to do something because I didn’t feel like being hurt that day.

All of this is to say, 50 Shades of Grey, you win, I quit.

To see it is to know true evil. To gaze upon its face is to invite madness…

50 Shades of Grey is not shocking, it is not sexy, it is not revolutionary. The story of a young, virginal woman introduced to a life of kinky pleasure by an older, dirtier man is as old as time (and, is also the story of Hellraiser when you rip away all of the horror elements).  As mommy’s first bondage reader (more “This Story is Brought to You by the Letter O” than “The Story of O”) it fails based almost solely on its ineptitude.

The protagonist is a rank moron who’s only actual talent seems to be using a thesaurus so that she can look up the most arcane synonym for a word to drop into conversation (“My heart beats a frantic tattoo.”  WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!) and not understand how the world works (MP3 speakers, helicopters need space to take off and land, death by bicycle collision).  As stupid as Anastasia Steele is, everyone else in the book is as big, or bigger, an asshole, douche nozzle, or dick.  Mouth rapists, blackmailers and insane stalkers.

These are the good guys.

It’s all just so horrible and that’s before we even get into how poorly written it is.  For free you excuse an obvious lack of even a cursory edit.  For $2.99 it’s a little more annoying, but you can get over it.  For $9.99 the slapdash state that this book was released in is positively inexcusable.  Seriously, this book should have been edited, by a for real American who gets paid to edit books so that all of the annoying Britishisms were taken out (not that being British is annoying, but hearing an American talk in an obviously British voice is), proper punctuation was used, and EL James was beaten upside the head with her Thesaurus..

It’s easy to dismiss my criticism, of course, “You’re a man, you wouldn’t understand this.”  Maybe.  I love John Cusack movies and I positively adore Lisa Lutz’s The Spellman Files which feature an almost unlovably immature heroine and a cast of supporting characters who are almost all sociopaths.  I even read the comic book that Janet Evonavich wrote.  I think my chick lit credentials are pretty strong.  Also, you’re being sexist.

This book is terrible and worse than being terrible, between my job, a wife, three dogs (including a puppy who is in that “destroy everything” phase) I don’t have much time for reading.  This book has taken away from the time I get to spend reading good books.  I just don’t hate myself enough to keep on with this.

So, there you go, FS0G, you win. You were so terrible that I could not even enjoy you on an ironic, “oh shit, this is the worst thing I’ve ever read” level.  I watched both Hobo With a Shotgun and Evil Bong 3-D last year.  Both were more enjoyable than this (and Evil Bong made me contemplate whether or not it humanity should continue).

I now know evil.  It is EL James.  Never again.  Never again.