This is not a book review, but it is about a book
series.
I do not know if the Fifty Shades craze has hit other
parts of the country (although I have seen mention on Pinterest about the best
man to play Christian Grey, so I think it has).
I am not one to read books that are “bodice rippers” anymore. I did read my fair share in the past, but I have
not really read those for close to 5 or 6 years
now. However, the buzz around work for
the series was becoming incessant, so I caved.
Sure, there is quite a bit of sex in the series, and
the bulk of it in the first book is about BDSM.
Nevertheless, as a witch with a variety of friends with “alternative”
lifestyles, it was not anything of which I had never heard. So, what kept me
reading the books? I wanted to know what
had happen to that little boy that made Fifty the way he was.
See, to me the books were not so much about the sex;
they were about the ease in which a person’s childhood can really fuck them
up. It is a story of how this man had
endured some horrific beginnings and was still able to find love. Yes, I know these were fictional, but tell me
you cannot see it happening in real life.
It also makes me think about those people that others
have given up on. What do we know about the
circumstances that have made them what they are today?
Maybe that man who makes you cringe every time he
comes into the emergency room was abused as a child and he had no one to show
him that they cared. Could it be that
this is his way of getting a little bit of gentle attention?
That woman that keeps having kids? She may have never anyone to hug her and she
is trying to feel that little scrap of unconditional love that comes from an
infant.
SO many people out there have had something in their
lives that screwed them up so badly that they struggle to fit in with the rest
of society. These books have made me
stop and look at my life and I realized that, while my life was not the ideal,
I could have had it much worse.
