Minor updates, moderate literary rant
Not much to say lately; Lu’s out of summer program, we accomplished some home improvement (will post pics later) while Nate visited; Lu got diaper rash but it cleared up and we’re in the first stages of potty training her. Also, we’re going to visit Chuck’s parents over the weekend, whee!
I am, however, compelled to mention that I am reading another “So-and-so reads ____” blog, this time “Jenny Reads 50 Shades of Grey.” She liberally includes excerpts from the book itself, and those little tastes are enough to make me simultaneously livid and filled with ennui. The writing really does make Twilight (50 Shades’ source material - and it shows) look like high-quality work - the female protagonist is even more intolerable than Bella Swan, her friend’s actions and characterization are super inconsistent, and Christian Grey - a newfound masculine dreamboat for 50 Shades fans - is a controlling dickbag. But he’s so hot and super-rich! That makes it understandable and okay for the protagonist to totes fall for him! Loll!!11
Between the protagonist Ana’s subconscious (as a total conscious manifestation of something in her head - maybe ego? - thus rendering the title “subconscious” utterly inappropriate) and “inner goddess” reacting to situations, the author’s terribly inconsistency with how characters act and how others react to them, and just plain repetitive, boring bullshit, I utterly fail to see how anyone can bear to read this book and be aroused by it. Maybe if you skip to the sexy parts, but even those thus far have been kind of ridiculous - Grey’s stock porn dialog is laughable, Ana dreads her orgasms (wtf?), and the general descriptions are just okay; I have absolutely read better, both published and amateur. All the stuff around the sexy parts, though, is pretty stupid. We are privy to nearly every tedious event, to every needless detail about wardrobe, and to each idiotic, narcissistic, and adulating thought of Ana’s, liberally peppered with “Oh my”s (instantly I imagine George Takei’s voice) and “Hmm”s and exclamations of “Jeez.” To top off the shit sundae, the Briticism of the author is palpable and distracting in a work that supposedly takes place in Seattle, WA, USA, starring American people.
If it hadn’t already become this big deal bestseller-being-turned-into-a-movie thing, I’d never believe that people would read this and evangelize about it with such enthusiasm. Maybe that tiny bit of BDSM sex fantasy is novel enough to get the general readership going, shitty writing aside. And I get BDSM fantasy, really, I do - but this book is fucking insufferable even as that.
I am, however, compelled to mention that I am reading another “So-and-so reads ____” blog, this time “Jenny Reads 50 Shades of Grey.” She liberally includes excerpts from the book itself, and those little tastes are enough to make me simultaneously livid and filled with ennui. The writing really does make Twilight (50 Shades’ source material - and it shows) look like high-quality work - the female protagonist is even more intolerable than Bella Swan, her friend’s actions and characterization are super inconsistent, and Christian Grey - a newfound masculine dreamboat for 50 Shades fans - is a controlling dickbag. But he’s so hot and super-rich! That makes it understandable and okay for the protagonist to totes fall for him! Loll!!11
Between the protagonist Ana’s subconscious (as a total conscious manifestation of something in her head - maybe ego? - thus rendering the title “subconscious” utterly inappropriate) and “inner goddess” reacting to situations, the author’s terribly inconsistency with how characters act and how others react to them, and just plain repetitive, boring bullshit, I utterly fail to see how anyone can bear to read this book and be aroused by it. Maybe if you skip to the sexy parts, but even those thus far have been kind of ridiculous - Grey’s stock porn dialog is laughable, Ana dreads her orgasms (wtf?), and the general descriptions are just okay; I have absolutely read better, both published and amateur. All the stuff around the sexy parts, though, is pretty stupid. We are privy to nearly every tedious event, to every needless detail about wardrobe, and to each idiotic, narcissistic, and adulating thought of Ana’s, liberally peppered with “Oh my”s (instantly I imagine George Takei’s voice) and “Hmm”s and exclamations of “Jeez.” To top off the shit sundae, the Briticism of the author is palpable and distracting in a work that supposedly takes place in Seattle, WA, USA, starring American people.
If it hadn’t already become this big deal bestseller-being-turned-into-a-movie thing, I’d never believe that people would read this and evangelize about it with such enthusiasm. Maybe that tiny bit of BDSM sex fantasy is novel enough to get the general readership going, shitty writing aside. And I get BDSM fantasy, really, I do - but this book is fucking insufferable even as that.