Posts Tagged ‘Grey prose’
I should be elated. Nora didn’t like the third book in the trilogy at all. But getting her to talk about it was really hard. All she’d say was that the main characters got married and lived happily ever after. (Oh no! I hope I haven’t just spoiled it for you. But there’s a clever twist! Read on.)
“What didn’t you like about it?” I asked Nora.
“I really started to hate the woman, Ana.”
“She’s just so feeble. And the sex isn’t arousing any more.”
“But isn’t that what happens in marriage?”
“I don’t know. It’s supposed to be a happy ending. Actually at the end it kind of goes back to the beginning and you get to see things from his point of view, which I thought was quite clever.”
“I see. So you get depths?”
“Not really. You’ll have to read it yourself, I suppose.”
What a forbidding thought!
I dipped into it with grim circumspection. It was a lot worse than I expected. The dialogue was so flat it depressed me. The limp sentences had no forward motion, weighed down by one hackneyed phrase after another.
Paraphrasing loosely from the chapter called MEET FIFTY SHADES…
As I stared into my dreary electronic screen, an unfamiliar ennui seeped into my consciousness. My mood became as flat and grey as the Mr. Grey in my Kindle. The heavy minutes blended together with no distinction, and even the prospect of seeing a fresh-faced virgin get fucked again and again in more and more painful ways failed to provide any kind of diversion.
The leaden sentences of my review popped unbidden into my empty thoughts. I was aware that I’d sound like a sulky teen but I didn’t give a fuck.
How can this woman be called a writer? Oh Christ! Surely she can do better than this? What a fucking dull book. Not one iota of originality. It’s disappointing.
Don’t bother with this. You can supply your own characters, your own sex scenes, your own plot. Definitely supply your own ending. It’s bound to be more imaginative than the book’s.