I recently wrote a little review of the first four chapters of 50 Shades of Grey. Since then, a fair few people have asked me to carry it on (thanks a lot you twats) so I begrudgingly read another three chapters. I was hoping to do four but I couldn’t be arsed. Here it is then. Chapters 4 – 7 of 50 Shades of Grey…….
We re-join our boring hero when she wakes up in Christian Grey’s bed, having passed out from the previous night’s excesses. Grey has very kindly taken all of her fucking clothes off, as you do when you’re helping a complete stranger into bed. She later finds out that he slept in the bed too but doesn’t think it’s at all odd that some random bloke is stripping her and watching her sleep. At this point, Ana expresses a desire to drink Grey’s sweat and body wash, comparing it to margaritas. I don’t know about anyone else, but when I’m hanging out of my arse after a night of heavy drinking, I can barely manage a coffee. Sweat and ‘Dove for men’ would make me vomit out all of my internal organs.
Of all of the ways this author describes Grey in the fifth chapter, such as Michael Angelo’s David and James Bond (I know, it’s like the diary of a 12-year-old). The one that made me want to slam my fists into my eyeballs the most was ‘Dark Knight’, which the author uses multiple times to describe this bamboo fingered, dull-mannered twat. Batman would easily kick the shit out of this pussy and would do it without raping anyone! I find myself wishing the Joker would show up screaming “WHY SO SERIOUS?” and give Grey a Chelsea smile.
The novel really heats up from here on in. There are multiple raunchy elevator scenes, the first of which the author masterfully describes as “only just not painful”. From what I read it seemed more like “only just not rape” as Grey slams her against the wall and practically fucking nuts her into submission.
Chapter Six is all about Grey’s uncanny talent for driving every fucking vehicle he can get his hands on. He drives cars, helicopters and as a reader, he drives home the foreboding sense that this novel is getting progressively worse. Being the psychic-rapebot that he is, Grey even uses his clairvoyance to find out where Ana lives and drives her home.
Eventually we get to the first part of this novel that I, as an avid videogames enthusiast, can relate to. What is it? It’s a fucking terms of service contract! I am seriously not making this up. Christian Grey makes Ana Steele sign a fucking contract so that he can rape her in his big house that he flew her to in his impressive helicopter. I’m no expert on the ladies, in fact, I’m really more of a pub-dwelling bloke. But I’ve never met a girl who is turned on by the thought of such things as solicitors, court appearances or excel spread sheets. Perhaps I’m just old fashioned.
The book gets seriously mental from here onwards. Grey gives Ana a bedroom to herself explaining that “I don’t sleep with anyone, except you when you’re stupefied with drink”. Of course, to you and me, this statement alone would have alarm bells ringing with the word “weirdo” and the phrase “fucking run away you stupid bitch!” Fortunately for the plot-line, Ana has the personality and common sense of a McVities Chocolate Digestive and decides to stick around.
Speaking of food, the author compares Chrstian Grey’s raping tendencies to Cheese?!?!? Again, I’m not kidding you. When asked by Ana why he wants to rape her, he replies “why do some people like cheese and other people hate it?” What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m no doctor, but I’d guess it’s got something to do with the sensitivity of a person’s taste buds. Fortunately, Ana is thick as pig shit and this answer more than satisfies her curiosity.
The seventh chapter ends with Grey getting pissed off at Ana for being a virgin. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” he bawls at her. I found myself mouthing out the response “because I’ve spent the entirety of this book’s dialogue sequences spouting inane drivel and thinking about your unusually long fingers.”