The 50 Shades of Grey Fightback by @AlexiaSaysLove
I thought it would be a fun, easy read with titillating, provocative sex combined with a love story.[/quote] Picture the scene – a Greek island writing holiday, fabulous, extraordinary women around, the Aegean sea in view, plenty of retsina…and my beach read of ’50 Shades of Grey’. I thought it would be a fun, easy read with titillating, provocative sex combined with a love story. And it started off like a third date dinner – teasingly nice and comfortably tasty. However, I turned each page, it began to leave a sour taste in my mouth.
Sending Mixed Signals
Single women I know have spent years analysing men’s mixed signals, wallowing in self-pity over cocktails after yet another text from a man they don’t even fancy saying, “I’m just not that into you”. And here we have the needy, naïve (who would believe virginal!) Ana, blighted by the gorgeous, rich, mesmerising Grey – to the point of sticking up silver balls up her what’s-it! I managed to read three-quarters of the book, despite being deeply plagued by the incessant, pitiful actions of Ana and her screwed-up lover. Don’t get me wrong, the sex and BDSM did not bother me, but, after years of meeting non-committal type men, it really wasn’t going to be for me. I did not need to read about another battle of wills. Will he change? Can he finally open up to her? Is he ever going to spend an evening talking about her needs and not his?!
After spending five days with strong, inspiration women, I felt empowered to stick two fingers up at this book and its repetitive too-ing and fro-ing about ‘the contract’. I wanted to take this Ana and shake her by the shoulders, screaming, “Get over him, and get on with your career”.
I couldn’t read another page of her endless ponderings, reminding me of my own rollercoaster, car-crash relationships.
So, jumping off my sun-lounger (cocktail laid down very carefully in the first instance), I announced, “Ladies, who wants to join me in a ceremonious drowning of ’50 Shades of Grey?’ The women around me jubilantly leapt off their own sun loungers, flinging their books over their shoulders, following me into the sea to witness the execution – now to be called ‘The 50 Shades Fightback’.
I’ve thrown away and drowned that book along with the rest of those men who had beaten me down and left me questioning my self-worth. I stood in the sea with the waves rising to my midriff, voicing what was wrong with the book and how nauseating it had made me feel. As I explained about the deplorable characters and justified my actions, I slowly tore out the pages of the book, allowing them to float over the water. The women nodded in agreement, supporting this ode to womankind. I’ve thrown away and drowned that book along with the rest of those men who had beaten me down and left me questioning my self-worth.
And what a feeling it gave me. A long over-due cleansing ritual, one that was wonderfully liberating. I urge any of you out there who feel the same to find your own way of destroying EL James pile of rubbish.
- Throw it off your nearest cliff;
- Run over it several times (car, bike, scooter, feet?);
- Let your nine-month-old nephew (or equivalent) chew on it;
- Allow your dog, cat, pet gerbil to poo / wee on it.
- And finally, my personal favourite, bash it about with your stiletto heel.
There, now doesn’t that make you feel so much better?
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