Notes of
Concern…
…Jackson Blair
Fifty Shades of Filth
Fifty Shades of Grey!
By E.L. James
I am not a book reviewer.
I am a reader of books.
It was not possible for me to let this recent “hot bestseller”
go unchallenged. While it may be “hot” and it is certainly a “bestseller”
neither makes it a good read.
So today, I write on behalf of those who found the book to
be without merit, and to warn those of you who have it on your “list to read”
that perhaps you can find something more worthy.
I have now finished the onerous task I
set for myself to read all three volumes of Fifty Shades
of Grey.
Why, one might well ask, would I do
this to myself. Well, as a friend of some real fine writers over the years,
most of whom could
not get good work published, I really wanted to see what
all the fuss was about and to learn a bit about what
"sells." (That is my story and I am sticking to it.)
not get good work published, I really wanted to see what
all the fuss was about and to learn a bit about what
"sells." (That is my story and I am sticking to it.)
I can reliably report that “sex”
continues to sell.
“Good writing”-not so much.
It is symptomatic of our society.
It is symptomatic of our society.
The great writers, painters and
musicians work hard all their lives and get very small reward for their talent
or their efforts. Then someone like this lady comes along, hits a home run with
a book filled with lousy writing and smutty dialogue, and then repeats both every
three or four pages, and does so well financially she dashes off two more tomes
to collect on the notoriety.
When I was much younger, they sold books like these from
under the counter in stores. And you usually had to take
them home in a plain paper bag. The only difference between
those books then and these three Grey books is that no one claimed the under the counter books were the next great American novels.
When I was much younger, they sold books like these from
under the counter in stores. And you usually had to take
them home in a plain paper bag. The only difference between
those books then and these three Grey books is that no one claimed the under the counter books were the next great American novels.
None of those books from behind the
counter would ever be on The New York Times Bestseller List.
And these three pieces of tripe should
not be on that list either.
Between television, the Internet and the pervasive prurient
interest of modern metrosexuals, something like Fifty
Shades of Grey gets more newsprint than the horrendous
state of our economy, our shrinking influence in the world,
and our fixation on 8x10 glossies of men who want to be
president.
Now I have friends who read these three books and liked
them. They are quick to tell you why. Sometimes they find it necessary to tell you why. They remind me of the
men who, in the 1960's, blushed when they said they read
Playboy “for the stories!”
I still love the friends.
That said, I would like to find a way to get my money back.
But first, I have to find a plain brown wrapper to encase
these books that I really would prefer people not know I read!
What a conundrum.
Between television, the Internet and the pervasive prurient
interest of modern metrosexuals, something like Fifty
Shades of Grey gets more newsprint than the horrendous
state of our economy, our shrinking influence in the world,
and our fixation on 8x10 glossies of men who want to be
president.
Now I have friends who read these three books and liked
them. They are quick to tell you why. Sometimes they find it necessary to tell you why. They remind me of the
men who, in the 1960's, blushed when they said they read
Playboy “for the stories!”
I still love the friends.
That said, I would like to find a way to get my money back.
But first, I have to find a plain brown wrapper to encase
these books that I really would prefer people not know I read!
What a conundrum.
For further information: jacksonblair@gmail.com
