The Ginger Reader: Fifty Shades of Grey, an Introduction

Welcome to the inaugural entry of "The Ginger Reader"! I'm currently sitting in my local Panera, where so many other local clientele are also busy typing away on their computers (although, I admit, I am doing this not from my computer, but from my tablet, which somehow makes me feel fancier than the average biped). I should note that the cookies here are HUGE. Take a look at this monster as an example:

Sorry for the image quality. I forgot that I could take pictures with my tablet, and my phone does not have the best resolution. But I digress.

This cookie is almost as large as the napkin it's resting on, and that is impressive! Ahem, digressions aside...

I was inspired to begin a book review, or perhaps more accurately a book commentary, series after reading a not-insignificant portion of "Mark Reads Harry Potter."

(Another digression: He is currently reading Neil Gaiman's Sandman series, which is beyond thrilling. I'll have to see if my local library, or even my alma mater's library, has the series currently available to check out. I'd love to read along with him and see what he has to say about such an interesting graphic novel series. I haven't read his commentary yet, as I wouldn't want to spoil anything, but I recommend checking out some of the things he has done.)

Additional inspiration struck from the seemingly unending flurry of bestselling book series. I feel as though I have found myself wondering, "What is the newest trilogy to hit the market this month?" with shocking frequency. From Twilight to The Hunger Games,  from Game of Thrones to Fifty Shades of Grey, and everything in between... I felt like every time I turned around, there was another series with multiple books already published that I'd never heard of that was enthralling the masses, with varying degrees of quality and respectability. Astounding. 50 Shades caught my eye because, even though I am reluctant to admit such a thing, I was once a fan of Twilight. I once yearned after Edward Cullen. I was also once sixteen years old, so forgive me my youthful follies. Anyway, this trilogy by E.L. James had been described to me as Twlight with sex. Erotic Twilight. What might have happened on that honeymoon trip if Stephenie Meyer had not cut to black in the last book.

My inner sixteen-year-old was intrigued. My current 21-year-old self could only roll her eyes in disgust. Twilight with sex could only mean impossibly rich and pretty and brooding leading men with flat, vacant leading women that marked a step backwards in the fight for gender equality. Did the world really need another series with a character that is such a terrible Mary Sue that Mary Sues everywhere hid in shame at the prospect of being compared to her? Well, according to book sales, apparently. The logical voice in my head told me to give this series a wide berth, and for a long time I did just that.

However, as summer and the end of college approached, I realized that I had an unprecedented opportunity to read trashy literature for a good laugh without feeling guilty for not attending to piles of homework. The literary prospects for the list of "trashy books" began popping up everywhere -- too much good stuff. And then 50 Shades came crashing back into my field of vision as my friends sent me videos of celebrities reading excerpts from the book. I found myself falling out of my chair laughing at each and every excerpt shared on YouTube, and that propelled this "erotic romance" to the front an center of my attention.

My inner sixteen-year-old felt triumphant. My current 21-year-old self stroked her chin pensively; if this 50 Shades could cause diverse celebrities to parody, ridicule, and satirize it, then perhaps it wouldn't be such a painful read after all. Perhaps I could create a series of blog entries analyzing, commenting on, and reacting to, at the very least, the first book of the trilogy. Perhaps I could point out to my inner sixteen-year-old exactly why a trilogy like this is the last thing in the world young women need to be reading when they are still trying to develop their own identities, sexual, professional, or otherwise. Perhaps I could have a little fun reading this book, and perhaps I could make a few people laugh in the process. I bounced the ideas off the heads of a few friends, who enthusiastically approved (and so I hope I don't disappoint you, friends :) ), and thus did I rush to the Kindle store on my tablet and download Fifty Shades of Grey.

I invite you to join me, dear reader, for the next five entries of "The Ginger Reader" as I barrel through the erotic and kinky adventures of one Anastasia Steele, five chapter at a time. I don't pretend to be any sort of great critic, and I certainly don't expect to provide the most profound or articulate commentary as, based on my brief glimpse at the first chapter, I expect to spend much of the book baffled by, well, just about everything. I do, however, hope that you'll have fun and that you'll giggle or laugh or even see eye-to-eye with me when you read these posts because, hopefully, you and I share the same common love for good writing, complex characters, well-developed plots, and some good, old fashioned romance. And perhaps, together, we'll finally come to understand why so many women (and my inner sixteen-year-old) have been so enraptured by E.L. James' work.

Until the next chapter,
Rachel