An illegitimate fantasy

Britain's best-selling book in nine weeks; the fastest selling paper-back in the U.K. ever; all through word-of-mouth.  It's success can't be faulted.  The book itself...oh my.

I'm quietly quite pleased to hear more people talk about literature than normal but what is tremendously disappointing is their choice of material. 


"Oh you have to read it!"


"I just couldn't put it down..."


"I've bought all of the others and will devour them immediately in a whirl of giddy excitement"
If Fifty Shades of Grey were described as a piece of pure escapism, a bit of fun to while away boredom, then I can understand but over the past week I've heard some of the word-of-mouth talk myself.

It's amusing and depressing in equal measure to hear it described as an engaging read that happens to come with a naughty streak.  People get swept up in Hemingway, Austen or even contemporaries like Faulkes and emerge hours later with faraway looks of being added to as human beings but this is Twilight fan-fiction trash gone mad.

Does it bother me that it's a barely tarted up version of the seedy literature one might find in rather suspect establishments (that I have never read and absolutely never frequented - how dare you...); not really.  It bothers me that as a piece of widely-read literature it's just plain bad.

From the toe-curling, lip-biting and trousers "filled out in that certain way" it's repetitive, bland and with no inherent focus.  Romantic bilge dreamt up solely to appease those of a repressed disposition and drowning in cliché, the book (and what little I've seen of its follow-ups) are just torrid scenarios with a plot that nobody actually cares about.  Grey certainly is not a modern Mr. Darcy but already there is talk of movie adaptations and Michael Fassbender; a terrific actor but clearly the person of choice because might be comfortable with the source material and his mastery of the brooding, pensive look that Grey's silver-screen parallel would be sure to sport while lingering languidly near reflective or transparent surfaces.

It's not the success of the book with which I have the biggest question; it's the hypocrisy of its popularity and the fickleness of people and the medium you choose.  Graphic sexual themes, albeit presented through clunky and asinine phrasing, are seen as acceptable and thrilling here but would the same be said if the book were aimed at a different market?  If many of the books female readers found their partner showing an interest in this via the internet or videos would they have the same reaction.  Part of me would hope so but doubt it.

What irritates is it being treated as a book of some worth so that people can justify their reading of it.  Say that you wanted to read it for the content.  Say that you liked it.  Say it gave you a light-headed thrill but do not confuse good literature with cheap arousal.