was gifted to me just after it came out (much excitement on the part of my dear friend; me—not so much, but it's the thought that counts, right?), and yet months later, still gathering electron dust on my hard drive (didn't even make it onto my Kindle). But I did try and read the first few pages...3 times
I have several hurdles to overcome before I can take another crack at this (if ever). One, I tend to go against the grain; the greater the furor over something, the more skeptical I become. I can't but help envision the scene from Ice Age
when the dildos—oops! meant dodos
—stampede mindlessly over the cliff into extinction. Once this "mommy porn" invaded the well-groomed streets of suburbia and spilled over into America's heartland, I winced and did a mental duck for cover. Given the emotional contagion spawned by this trilogy, is the backlash any surprise?
Two, Fifty Shades
turned into a "must have" fashion accessory; the book suddenly popped up everywhere, displayed oh-so-conveniently to show how trendy its owner was and to invite giggling, hushed discussions. *rolls eyes*
[yes, DK, EY et al: that's for you!]
Third, plunging unsuspecting mainstream America (and elsewhere) into BDSM without so much as a by-your-leave (even if somewhat self-inflicted)...well, that was just wrong-wrong-wrong
. A part of me keeps wondering if this was some sort of prank, as in "let's write up something as outrageous as I can and see what happens".
Regardless, folks: if you think subs are weak/have no power or that anything beyond a slap and tickle is abuse, then please, please
DON'T READ BDSM BOOKS. *GASP!* He wanted her to sign a contract?!? WHA—???
Hmmm, not unheard of when two people enter into a D/s relationship; some contracts even specify the relationship's duration. I just pray that those shocked readers never stumble across works by Annabel Joseph, Joey Hill, Kitty Thomas, or even the tamer (IMO) Cherise Sinclair.
I write this because I'm not sure when/if I'll ever be able to approach this tragic brouhaha without an instinctive gag reflex. Doesn't help that others have since jumped on Fifty Shades
's coattails so it's "10 Shades" this and "If you loved 50 Fifty Shade..." that. So I'll end with a funny:
I recall reading an article in which someone equated reading Fifty Shades
(and other erotica) to adultery. Why? Because only your husband or wife should arouse you sexually. *giggle*giggle*
Even funnier, that person averred (paraphrasing) that reading erotica long-term leads to the inability to enjoy real sex.
BWAAAHAHA!!! I'd love to see the results of a poll asking people how their sex life fared after erotica entered the scene. (My friend's hubby usually has a big 'ol silly grin on his face as he peruses Ellora's Cave newest offerings.)
And meanwhile, E. L. James is laughing all the way to the bank...again.
[Pack 5, stop sulking and quit nagging me. Enough already!