50 Shades of Grey

More like '50 Shades of Predictable and Repetitive Narration Full of Unlikeable Characters and Badly Written Sex'. Now, my version of the title may not be marketing gold, but at least it sums up the book’s content pretty accurately.

It boggles my mind that badly written books are becoming bestsellers (hi there, Twilight) while books with real, loveable characters and strong plot often sit on the shelves without notice. And speaking of Twilight… 50 Shades of Grey is in fact Twilight, only without vampires and with more ‘kink’.

The similarities between the characters are hard to miss, unless you lost common sense and both your eyeballs. The main character, Anastasia Steele is clumsy (falls flat on her face right at the beginning of the book), misogynist of a student who has never been in love nor had a crush on a guy, even though she’s at a university and is 21. I’m just going to assume she’s lived in a nunnery until now because surely, she would have liked at least one guy.

Obviously, she’s really hot (though she fails to notice) and all the guys she comes in contact with are instantly dazzled, such as her friend Jose whom she finds hot but doesn’t want to date (cough, Jacob, cough). The character, very much like Bella Swan, is the epitome of a Mary Sue.

The first time she meets the love interest Christian Grey, she’s nothing but rude and offensive and hasn’t even managed to do a quick Google search before interviewing him. Despite this, he seems taken with her. Why, I have no idea.

Now, she was conned into interviewing him by her friend Kate, but surely she has enough brain cells to do a five minute recon on the guy to avoid being embarrassed by her lack of basic knowledge. She hasn’t proven herself to be witty, funny or particularly intelligent or even done her homework prior to meeting him, yet this young, filthy rich, beautiful man (as the author reminds us at every opportunity) is practically offering her a job. I thought published stories were supposed to be plausible. My bad.

We're told numerous times that Anastasia is special but the author fails to prove it through action instead of words. All I see is two cripplingly insecure people who are screwed in the head and have personalities of gnats. Now that I think about it, they deserve each other.

Christian is an obsessive stalker who pops up at the most random places where Anastasia happens to be too. What a coincidence, right?! Not only that, he also repeatedly threatens her with bodily harm. That should have ticked her off. It would have if she had any self-respect. Ah, well. Edward Christian is 'oh my, so hot' that he can't possibly be evil. Riiight.


They eventually start to hump like horny rabbits after a long draught of celibacy and miraculously, the virginal Anastasia turns into a sexual beast and a porn-like pro in an instant (very likely, I know). Not to mention it literally takes a few touches for her to get a multiple orgasm. That Christian must be really good. That, or the author just likes to embellish. A lot.

The entire story consists of her mulling over whether she should let him hit her and then letting him hit her while the more than a little psychotic Christian thinks that he probably shouldn’t be hitting her but does it anyway. What a healthy relationship!

I’ve read the beginning and skimmed the rest because I couldn’t wade through it all to save my life. But if you’re expecting a read that delves deep into psychology behind BDSM or at least characters who feel real and refrain from repeating their thoughts a hundred times, you’ll be disappointed. 


The author even admitted she knows nothing of BDSM, yet she makes a (poor) attempt at integrating the elements of it in the story. Hey, why don't I just write a medical book? It's not like you need to know anything these days as long as you create a big enough hype. Because let's be honest, hype is all there is.


There are thousands of fan fics better written than this and the sex is neither erotic nor originally written. Actually, it's not unlike watching the paint dry. All it did was make me question publishers and readers who got it to the bestseller list. Cheers for supporting this 'women love to be victims' drivel sparked by Twilight. That doesn't set us back a century or anything.