I kind of feel like I’ve sold my soul. “Why?” you ask.
I’m reading 50 Shades of Grey.
Yes, you read that right.
I caved. I did. In my defense, I have 2 reasons for having done so.
1. My sister, who dutifully reads everything I recommend, asked me to read the books. It’s important to her, so I agreed. Even so, that wasn’t enough to make me read them right away. I’ve had her copies for months, but kept them safely tucked away. Out of sight, out of mind. But then…
2. My Crisis & Trauma prof keeps bringing up Christian Grey. Two classes, two mentions. Really? Hm. During the last class she said that he fascinates her from a psychological standpoint (yeah, let’s go with that), given his history of abuse and subsequent control issues. In her opinion, Ana really needs counseling.
From what little I’ve read, I’d have to agree.
Remember those hilarious reviews of 50 Shades that I shared here awhile ago? It’s causing me problems now, because every time I read something mentioned in the reviews, I keep cracking up. I’m only on p. 47 and I’m already tired of reading about her “blushing” and “flushing.” Sadly, not once does the latter term involve a toilet. That would have at least provided some variety.
I will persevere. I might even like parts of it. I can at least do some pyschoanalyzing of the characters.
I leave you with this thought: How on earth is Christian Grey’s bottom lip not chafed off of his face? He’s constantly stroking it with one of his long, slender fingers…