Fifty Shades of Something

I am always on the look-out for a good read.  When a good friend - a librarian no less - recommended a quick summer read, I jumped at the chance.  I'd never heard of the book, because apparently I live in a bubble.  Yeah, a work-kids-home-work again kind of bubble.  So imagine my surprise when I mentioned it to a coworker and he said, "oh, you're reading that book."  Wow...what literary hornet's nest have I uncovered this time?

The book, Fifty Shades of Gray,  was one I had never heard of a week ago.  As of today, I have heard countless others discuss it, and am baffled by the sheer excitement and whispers of guilty pleasure resounding around campus.  Another co-worker practically beat me down to get the book when I was done.

To back up for a moment, I should preface this with the disclaimer from my librarian friend, who says she started skipping the sex scenes after a while.  Since reading this book, I think she must have read a total of three pages, as the rest were all sex related.  That's OK, I'm not opposed to a well-written sex scene if it furthers the plot.  I suppose in this case, it could be said to be furthering the plot, but well written it was not.  The entire book was a teenager's pulse racing inner dialogue, coupled with a consenting adult's best kept desires.  Did I finish the book?  Yes.  Despite being put off by the writing style.  Despite wondering where the author came up with the idea that a man at ANY age would be capable of those acrobatics.  I finished the book . As stereotypical and badly painted as her characters were at times, there was a very real relationship between two people at the heart of the book.  The interactions between two or more human beings are the very reasons any of us read any piece of fiction.  Their e-mails, within the story, were  the most compelling parts of the book.  Because they were real, self-doubting, sometimes sexy and sometimes angry.  Fifty shades of gray.  Are any of us any less?

When I was younger, I used to wonder who I was.  Am I the scholar or the clown?  Am I adventurous or studious?  Which path am I following in life?  I spent a lot of time trying to figure that out, and I've spent some time lately reviewing those answers.  In short, I am all of those things.  I am more than just fifty shades of gray.  I am all of those things, and none of those things.  The sum of the parts is less than the whole.  I've spent a lifetime wondering who I am, and am just now accepting that who I am in the moment is not necessarily who I was yesterday or who I will be tomorrow.  I can be serious mom.  Or silly best friend.  Or efficient employee.  Or moody person who just wants to be alone.  All still me.  More than fifty shades of me.

So, fifty shades of complicated in each of my friends.  Our friendships are different from day to day - depending on who each of us is on that particular day and in that particular place.  My relationships are mercurial and endlessly changing.

Fifty shades of curious where my path will take me tomorrow, and who I will be in that moment.  Fifty shades of irritated that I am spending this long thinking about it.

I suppose I can say that Fifty Shades of Gray wasn't such a bad book, as it made me think.  That's what a good novel does.  I'll give it points for that.

Now, fifty shades of tired.  I'm going to bed.