50 Shades of Boring

The first time I was told to read 50 Shades of Grey, my reaction was one of complete disdain. "I don't read literotica." Literotica and romance novels to me have about as much artistic value as low-rent porn videos. And I say this as someone who absolutely loved the Hunger Games trilogy, so it's not as if I'm a lit snob.

Flash forward a few months. It's the summer. I'm bored. The Game of Thrones books are so heavy. One click later at the Amazon Kindle store, and 50 Shades is on my iPad. And let it never be said that E.L. James is a heavy, dense writer. I finished 50 Shades in a day. I'm slogging through the next two books of the trilogy though.

So is the book really worth all the fuss? Libraries are pulling it from their shelves. There's a debate about whether it glorifies an abusive relationship. Hotels replaced Bibles with 50 Shades copies. And everywhere, in the subways, on the beach, I see women reading it.