It was about two years ago. I tried it, but I didn’t of the 70 pages. I gave quite a margin, but I got bored fatally.
I talk about Fifty shades of Grey, the novel by E. L. James, a successful sales before and after the film which you can see in Asuncion today (and that I’m not interested in). Is that the book not only bored, to force to repeat their formulas again and again for the consumption of readers unaware, but under the label of “erotic literature” smuggle in a pattern that is absolutely “anti-erotic”.
The common denominator of the novels of E. L. James, Megan Maxwell, Jodi Ellen Malpas, Maya Banks, and other “queens” of the genre, tends to be the class difference that exists between the man and the woman of his stories (sometimes, also, the difference of age; but from that 60 years ago, Vladimir Nabokov wrote that false and masterful erotic novel is Lolita, that is not the most “attractive”). His novels are portrayed and narrated by women “simple” and “common” (students, employees of warehouse, secretaries) that are “capable” of “go crazy” to men’s “powerful”, and so “get” their “liberation.” This happens to be met, and met, by using sex (which is often not “conventional”) to the same height as an entrepreneur, lawyer, successful, of a professor masterful. But that’s not rare, it is often impossible, and it is this impossibility of social the that dota of a certain thickness dramatic to these novels, as not just a succession of sex scenes and justify their appellation: a novel.
That is why it is possible to venture the hypothesis that these books are “consumed” with fanaticism by men and women of the middle class, aspiring to eternal the rise in the social scale. The men who read them –and there are often denying it– you adore to imagine powerful as the masculine stereotype as “sexy” that abounds in these books: – male with fat wallet and dominant. We speak not of “erotic novels”, but rather “novels class”.
Yes I read the entire first novel of the ex-porn actress Sasha Grey, The society Juliette. Despite repeat certain paradigms bland, it is more honest and more literary than that of James (there are references to the best in cinema: Godard, Welles, Bertolucci; the title is a nod to obvious the Marquis de Sade, and the prose of Grey denotes that you have read good classic literature). It seems to Me more erotic, more pornographic as I wanted Susan Sontag, that what I endured of the manidas fifty shades. And, finally, Grey knows well about what he writes.
If you want to read good erotic literature current, read The luminous gift of the Spanish Manuel Vilas. And, also, more Sasha Grey and less Christian Grey.