Sunday, July 26, 2015

Grey, by E L James

So, after finishing The Warlock by Michael Scott, I started Grey by E L James.  In case you've been living under a rock for the past year or so, this is the 4th book in the 50 Shades of Grey series that came out in in 2011 (with a movie released in February 2015).

Like many many other people, like 100 million other people, I was caught up in the trilogy of books which follow the relationship between Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele.  It is a less than conventional relationship - a Dom/Sub sexual relationship - with Christian as the Dom and Anastasia as the Sub.

The original trilogy of books - 50 Shades of Grey, 50 Shades Darker, 50 Shades Freed) were wonderfully terrible, or terribly wonderful - any way you slice it or dice it - the books were catchy, raunchy, racy, pornographic, erotic, can't put it down reads.  I was reading the trilogy when I was commuting on CalTrain from the Peninsula up to San Francisco (2 hours each way every day), and was tearing through the books.  I was slightly embarrassed reading them on public transportation, but I really couldn't put them down.  I remember once needing to get through a chapter in one of the books, so I was reading it while walking down Montgomery Street in the middle of the Financial District at 8:30 in the morning.  I just couldn't put it down.  Terribly wonderful books.  When I heard the movie was getting made, I was skeptical.  How would they make the movie following the book?  What actor and actress would really go there and do what was written in the book?  Yikes.  The movie - horribly wonderful.

Then, I heard there was a book coming out that followed the first book in the trilogy, 50 Shades of Grey, but was written from Christian's perspective.  Hmmmmm...  Interesting concept.  The Husband told me that E L James originally wrote fan fiction for the Twilight series.  After learning that fun fact, I have to say, I can see it - Anastasia Steele is very similar to Bella Swan - clumsy, innocent, virginal, young, brunette, and hopelessly in love with a tall, mysterious, brooding, dark, wealthy man, Edward Cullen / Christian Grey.  So, yeah, there are a lot of similarities, except the 50 Shades characters aren't vampires.

I wasn't sure what to expect with Grey.  I started the book on 7/11 (free slurpee day, yeay!) and finished it on July 21.  Horribly wonderful, wonderfully horrible.  Having seen the 50 Shades movie (which didn't completely follow the book), it was hard not to try to compare or figure out how closely Grey followed 50 Shades.  This book was raunchy, sexy, bad, entertaining, pornographic, catchy, etc. etc.  
     She's so fucking tight.  She cries out.
     Shit! I've hurt her.  I want to move, to lose myself in her, and it takes all my restraint to stop.  "You're so tight.  You okay?" I ask, my voice a hoarse, anxious whisper, and she nods, eyes wider.  She's like heaven on earth, so tight around me.  And even though her hands are on my forearms, I don't care.  The darkness is slumbering, perhaps because I've wanted her for so long.  I've never felt this desire, this...hunger before.  It's a new feeling, new and shiny.  I want so much from her: her trust, her obedience, her submission.  I want her to be mine, but right now...I'm hers.

What was interesting/disturbing was reading what was going through Christian's head during his torrid relationship with Anastasia.  Yeah, he's pretty fucked up.
     "...I worry that you'll hurt me."
     Fuck.  Tell her.  It's truth-or-dare time, Grey.  "I want to hurt you.  But not beyond anything that you couldn't take."  I'd never go too far.
     "Why?"
     "I just need it," I whisper.  "I can't tell you."
     "Can't or won't?"
     "Won't."
     "So you know why?"
     "Yes."
     "But you won't tell me."
     "If I do, you will run screaming from this room, and you'll never want to return.  I can't risk that, Anastasia."
     "You want me to stay."
     "More than you know.  I couldn't bear to lose you."
     I can no longer stomach the distance between us.  I grab her to stop her from running, and I pull her into my arms, my lips seeking hers.  She answers my need, her mouth molding to mine, kissing me back with the same passion and hope and longing.  The hovering darkness recedes and I find my solace.
     "Don't leave me," I whisper against her lips.  "You said you wouldn't leave me, and you begged me not to leave you, in your sleep."
     "I don't want to go," she says, but her eyes are searching mine, looking for answers.  And I'm exposed - my ugly, torn soul on display.
     "Show me," she says.... "Punish me.  I want to know how bad it can get."
     Oh no.  I release her and step out of her reach.
     ...And in that moment I know there's nothing I want more...There's nothing that will satisfy the monster within me more.
     ...I open the door, quickly grab a belt from the rack before she changes her mind, and lead her to the bench in the corner of the room.
     ...This is it.  What I want.  What I've been working toward.     ...I take a deep breath, savoring this moment, trying to steady my heartbeat.
     I need this.  This is what I do.  And we're finally here.     Holding her in place with one hand at the small of her back, I shake out the belt.  I take another deep breath, focusing on the task in hand.
     She won't run.  She's asked me.
     Then I wield it, striking her across both cheeks, hard.
     ...I hit her again...  I hit her again... I hit her once more... There are three stripes across her backside.
     I make it four.
     There's no one to hear you, baby.  Shout all you need.  I belt her again.
[if you read the original book or saw the movie, you know what happens - Anastasia isn't happy and storms out of the play room.]
     I sink to the floor and lean my head against the wall, my arms on my bent knees.  Just let her cry.  She'll feel better for crying.  Women do, in my experience.  Give her a moment, then go and offer her aftercare.  She didn't safe-word.  She asked me.  She wanted to know, curious as ever.  It's just been a rude awakening, that's all.
     You are one fucked-up son of a bitch.     Closing my eyes, I smile without humor.  Yes, Ana, yes I am, and now you know.  Now we can move forward with our relationship...arrangement.

Horribly catchy, terribly addicting.  Bad.  Good.  Ugly.  Sexy.  Violent.  "Out there."

If you read the original trilogy, you'll probably like this too.  It is more of the same, but obviously gauging by how many books of the main trilogy sold, and how popular the movie was, this book will do just fine (1.1 million copies sold so far, so says the internet).

Waiting for the library to send book 6 of the Alchemyst series - hoping to have that this week.  Yeay! 

p.s. After reading this post to the Husband, he cries out "That's horrible.  That's terrible.  Now I know how you feel about me watching reality TV.  It is horrible.  It kills brain cells.  Books commit suicide when you read this."

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