Fifty Shades Trilogy

Fifty Shades Trilogy 


     
    
 

Fifty Shades of Grey: Book One of the Fifty Shades Trilogy [Paperback]

Book Description

When literature student Anastasia Steele goes to interview young entrepreneur Christian Grey, she encounters a man who is beautiful, brilliant, and intimidating. The unworldly, innocent Ana is startled to realize she wants this man and, despite his enigmatic reserve, finds she is desperate to get close to him. Unable to resist Ana’s quiet beauty, wit, and independent spirit, Grey admits he wants her, too—but on his own terms.

Shocked yet thrilled by Grey’s singular erotic tastes, Ana hesitates. For all the trappings of success—his multinational businesses, his vast wealth, his loving family—Grey is a man tormented by demons and consumed by the need to control. When the couple embarks on a daring, passionately physical affair, Ana discovers Christian Grey’s secrets and explores her own dark desires.

Erotic, amusing, and deeply moving, the Fifty Shades Trilogy is a tale that will obsess you, possess you, and stay with you forever.

This review is from: Fifty Shades of Grey (Paperback)
First, a disclaimer. I am a male senior citizen, a semi-retired gynecologist whose customary literary fare is spy novels and military techno-thrillers. I have never read a romance before, except perhaps for junior high's "A Tale of Two Cities" (or was that a classic?) But after the recent hullabaloo over James' "Fifty Shades," I opted to give the genre a glance.

The book's protagonist is college student Anastasia, who has never had sex or even "touched herself." I had to suspend disbelief at the social and sexual naivete of this twenty-one year-old, but I guess this implied vulnerability makes her more attractive as a romantic heroine. Yet it doesn't take her long to rectify this situation, and soon she is having orgasm after orgasm at the behest of her "dominant" partner, Mr. Grey. At my age, my arthritis flared up just reading about Ana's sexual gymnastics. And for some reason, I kept thinking about her contracting genital warts. Soon, however, Ana's endless pyrotechnic climaxes resembled repetitively watching porn: after a while, it leaves me bored and yawning. That said, there was a definite infectiousness to the plot; and taking Viagra to stiffen my resolve, I persevered.

James' strong suit is her ability to elicit sympathy in the protagonist. I wanted to find out what happened to Anastasia, and that lent the story a compelling, page-turning quality. James is a polished novelist. Her dialogue is crisp, her prose poised, and her paragraphs well-parsed. The author's considerable skills notwithstanding, would I pick up an erotic romance like this again? Probably not.

But that's just me.

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On Tuesday, "Fifty Shades of Grey," the pornographic page turner that has taken the e-reading world by storm, appeared in U.S. bookstores in paperback.
Though the title has been available as a digital download and, since 2011, in small batches like fine bourbon from a little Australian publishing house, this week's Vintage Books release flooded the market with copies of the dirty yarn, delighting the Diva, who still cleaves to outdated, type-on-paper technology.
Already a No. 1 New York Times best seller thanks to all those Kindles and Nooks stuffed into the bags of the thoroughly modern female, "Fifty Shades of Grey" is the first book in a trilogy from 40-something British author E L James. (In the grand tradition of erotic fiction, she is using a nom de plume, though given the onslaught of press inquires, she recently divulged that her first name is Erika).
I decide I can't possibly wait for an Amazon delivery. I must debase myself and search for the book in person. It turns out to be the perfect choice, as humiliation is one of the themes of James' hurts-so-good romance between bondage-loving billionaire Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele, a virginal college grad who goes from never-been-kissed to rather enjoying being trussed up with her paramour's silver-gray necktie and spanked in two shakes of a cat-o'-nine-tails.
Syndicated columnist Maureen Dowd didn't love it ("James writes like a Bront devoid of talent," she sniffed). Entertainment Weekly's Lisa Schwarzbaum gave it a B+ and suggested readers take it in whilst sitting "in a thrumming bus or subway car . . . Yowza!").
But the work is review-proof. As critics sniped at the heroine's penchant for G-rated exclamations as she engages in NC-17 acts of debauchery -- Holy cow! Holy moly! Wow and Oh my! -- Hollywood had a bidding war over the movie rights. Universal and Focus Features emerged victorious, picking up the trio for a reported $5 million.
The title that launched thousands of furtive downloads is now a Vintage Books paperback. Book two ("Fifty Shades Darker") and book three of the trilogy ("Fifty Shades Freed") go on sale Tuesday, April 17, though the trio is available digitally -- right this very second.
On the home front, pre-orders at Barnes & Noble stores in town were so brisk, I am told all copies are gone, baby, gone. Books-A-Million has a few left but refuses to set one aside because the so-called "mommy porn" -- named for its immense appeal to suburban women -- is too "hot" to hold.
I don my go-to, ingenious disguise -- sunglasses -- and fling myself into the teeth of rush-hour traffic. I squeal into the parking lot and burst through the doors, panting like Ana after a session with Christian and a plaited leather riding crop. Holy moly!
I demand the book from a 20-something behind the counter who looks as though he'd rather be shackled to the ceiling than deal with me.
He points to a display with a large sign that reads: "Yes, This Is The Book Everyone Is Talking About." There are 13 copies left. I pretend to grab "Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter," then nonchalantly pluck The Book Everyone Is Talking About from its cardboard shelving. Oh my, but the Diva still enjoys the feel of a hard spine in her hands.
At the register, I slap four packs of Jelly Belly jelly beans atop the titillating tome in an effort to appear wholesome and virtuous. I just read conservative presidential candidate Rick Santorum held a rally at the Jelly Belly factory in Fairfield, Calif. Plus, Ronald Reagan loved jelly beans. "Almost Easter!" I shout. He grins at me, and I realize I've just come off as 20 assorted flavors of kinky.
The "Fifty Shades" trio started as "Twilight" fan fiction. James, a happily married mother of two and former BBC executive, was inspired to write her blue-love story after devouring Stephenie Meyer's otherworldly Harlequin featuring vampire Edward Cullen and his mortal high school sweetheart, Bella Swan.
Like the "Twilight Saga," James' tale of dominant boy meets a submissive girl is set in the Pacific Northwest. There are no supernatural creatures, and the lovers are consenting adults. The steamy sex between the principals does not result in a teenage girl getting pregnant with a demon baby on her honeymoon, a satanic spawn that tries to chew its way out of her tortured body during labor. (And the Motion Picture Association of America rated that scene PG-13).
James won't go down in history as a 21st-century Anais Nin, but she has a sense of humor. (Something the dolorous Ms. Meyer could use.) When Ana gazes at the delectable Mr. Grey, whom she must call "Sir," she blushes uncontrollably. "I must be the color of The Communist Manifesto," she thinks. Catching sight of Sir's freed willie for the first time, she responds with a satisfied "Holy cow. . ."
S&M versions of classic and popular fiction are hardly new. Anne Rice, under the pseudonym A.N. Roquelaure, wrote a naughty "Sleeping Beauty" trilogy in the 1980s, a favorite among the BDSM community that was banned in 1996 by the Metropolitan Library in our very own state capital as "hard-core pornography."
BDSM, if you were wondering, is a catch-all acronym that refers to the terms bondage and discipline (B&D), dominance and submission (D&S) and sadism and masochism (S&M). Oh my!
Publishers are hoping to cash in on the "Fifty Shades" frenzy. Will we see, say, "Harry Potter"-inspired erotica: During an especially intense game of Quidditch, Harry and his nemesis, Draco Malfoy, enter into a midair BDSM relationship, with Draco caning Harry with his broomstick.
Ellora's Cave, which calls itself "the world's leading publisher of erotic romance novels," based in Akron, is trying to ride the orgiastic wave, flogging its own list of steamy releases:
"Crook & Flail": A beautiful, young widow travels to Egypt to escape her loneliness after the death of the man she called her Master. There she meets a man who is fascinated by her sexually submissive and masochistic tastes . . . As he tries to capture her heart, she becomes convinced that the love of her life is trying to communicate with her from beyond the grave. (Quick question: Can ghosts cane the living?)
"Natural Law": This book features a tough homicide detective who goes undercover as a male submissive to find a dominatrix who is murdering men. (Wasn't this an episode of "Law & Order: SVU?" And if not, why not?!)
"Coyote Hunger": Savage love stories centered on a community of people who are part human, part coyote. (Are leg-hold traps involved? Cuz that could be yummy.)
Still, it'll be hard to top the runaway success of "Fifty Shades." If you ask me, its appeal can be traced to the escapist fantasy of the contract Christian wants Ana to sign.
The document includes a list of rules she must live by, including getting eight hours of sleep a night (when she is not with the "Dominant," that is), and accepting, without complaint, a clothing budget, a personal trainer and free waxing appointments.