Fifty Shades

A work colleague gave me a copy of 'Fifty Shades of Grey', the erotic romance novel by EL James two years ago. Apparently, her husband bought it for get 'for the laugh' in an airport on holidays. I don't know how the holiday went, or what his motives really were, but she came back with a glorious tan and an unopened copy of 'Fifty'.

I put it on my shelf of other unread books, destined to spend the rest of it's days there, before being donated to a charity shop.

I've been in bed for the last two days with a woeful flu. Today, Easter Sunday, I'm like a divil. I'm finding it hard to get my temperature under control. Tonsils like golf balls. Aching all over.  I've no interest in eating Easter Eggs, or anything else.  I'm restless. I have a look at the Sunday Times papers and am quite impressed with myself. I read an article about Lou Reed and flick through the Style mag, which makes me grumpy, envious and washed up. With streaming eyes, I'm far from
a pretty sight.

What to do ... I look at the 'Great Unread' shelf.  'Fifty Shades' will do. Despite the ever reliable guys at work saying that 'it's a pile of shite', I delve in. Maybe I'm more open to it because of the hype around the recent movie release, which despite regular 'we must go and see it' from my friends, we didn't.

Also, I fancy the pants off Jamie Doran, even if he regularly scared the life out of me on 'The Fall'. After watching an episode, I was often afraid to walk by curtain less windows incase he was there watching.

And, I LOVE the Ellie Goulding song from the sound track of the aforementioned film.  Actually, I just love Ellie Goulding. I love her voice and her look. I want to be her. If she lived closer, I could be her stalker, although maybe not to 'The Fall' extremes. 'Love Me Like You Do' is such a beautiful song that it's hard to imagine the film being anything but a fairy tale.

I wipe the dust off and open up.  The intro doesn't do much for me and I'm feeling impatient. I flick through, looking for the 'sex bits'. As I flick, the dialogue bores me to tears. It's so contrived, I'm morto for you Christian. At the outset, he gives his new mot, the virginal Anastasia a list of rules from him the 'Dominant' to her the 'Submissive'. The only rule that I am interested in is that Christian wants to 'lavish money on you. Let me buy you some clothes'.  Hmmm ... I think back to that £280 utility styled Marc Jacobs skirt in the Style magazine earlier. I briefly toy with the idea of being the 'Submissive'. Then simultaneously, my eyes water and my nose starts to run. Where are the goddamn tissues. I'm back in the real world. I resume my search for the 'sex bits'. I find the first big encounter between Christian and Anastasia.

I realise that I got more of a thrill out of Jilly Coopers racy horsey novels that I stumbled across as a teenager.     It too was 'lady porn', but I loved the English upper class turn of phrase - it was all very 'spiffing' and 'jolly'.  I was fascinated by Jilly Copper herself when I seen her on TV.  This posh lady with an attractive gap in her teeth wrote that ?  I don't really give 'Fifty Shades' a chance.  I'm too sick and tired. Hardly the best combination for such a racy read.

The only thing I really like about 'Fifty Shades' is the way it came about in the first place.  It started out as 'fan fiction', where the author developed her own fictional writing online, developing story lines based on the Twilight, the vampire fantasy novels. Look at where it brought her ! Fair play to you EL James.  See, no hard feelings.  Oops, excuse the pun ...

I flick to the last five pages. Anastasia leaves yer man Christian. I'm glad. He was a pain in the ass.  Another pun. Maybe I'm getting my mojo back.