#AskELJames and Other Stories - Debbie Bennett
Love her or loathe her, Ms James certainly pushes
buttons, doesn’t she? The recent #AskELJames
Twitter Q&A had some interesting questions posed to the author, my favourite
being from @skepticosaurus Will you be
rewriting the book from Stephenie Meyer's point of view next time? Or this one. One
wonders whether her publishers were expecting this kind of reaction or whether
they expected her legions of fans to produce a flash-mob of adoration and publicity.
I’m sure there were a lot of people
praising the woman, but you never hear about all the nice stuff, do you? That
doesn’t make news. But #AskELJames does - even on ITV!
So what is it about certain people – certain authors – that polarises opinion? EL
James, JK Rowling, even Stephenie Meyer? They don’t write literary fiction, no,
but neither do a lot of other authors and it doesn’t matter. We laugh, criticise
and castigate. Are we jealous of their success or money? Maybe some writers
are, but that doesn’t explain the hordes of non-writers who delight in
name-calling and tweeting. Are we scared that if we admit to reading – even liking – these books, that other people
might think us weird in some way. Do we appear less-educated because we admit
to reading these books?
These people – these women – have made millions.
Billions probably, when you add in film and other franchises. Better still they’ve
got people reading; people who might not have read a book since their school
days are lapping up (ok, bad choice of words there) these books and begging for
more (I’ll stop, shall I?) That must be a good thing, surely?
JK Rowling has been banned by some councils and schools
with her references to magic. Really? That’s just bizarre to me. I’m not a fan
myself, but I can see the appeal – school stories, Mallory Towers for the 21st
century and all about loyalty and friendship conquering evil. I have no issues
with that and I wish the author well. I’m not so convinced about the
carefully-stage-managed leak of her pseudonymous
new books – but hey, it worked and kudos to whoever thought that one up.
James and Meyer are a different matter. I’ve read Twilight and the sequels, and I admit to
quite liking them. They wouldn’t be on my list of best-books-ever-read, but I
passed a few pleasant hours. I’ve not read James and I have no desire to - though perhaps I should, just to speak with more authority. But I do wonder
whether these books have a more dangerous message. What are our young
impressionable daughters reading (and of course they are reading FSOG) about male/female relationships.
Is it healthy for such books to be fĂŞted as masters of their genre? In Twilight, Bella sacrifices her humanity
for Edward. Is that love? Maybe it is. But FSOG is a world darker and I doubt it’s
an accurate introduction to the world it portrays. The definition of consent is a fine line and not one to walk without very careful consideration.
Would I write anything
to make money? Well probably not anything. I wouldn’t intentionally defame or
hurt anybody. I write contentious material anyway, but I do it carefully and
with forethought. I’m sure the authors I’ve mentioned above do too. Would I
risk ridicule to make their kind of money? Hell, yes! Money doesn’t buy
happiness but I can be miserable in a great deal of comfort …
www.debbiebennett.co.uk
Comments
Then again, there seems to be no shortage of people who like her books, so who am I to judge?
There's also been quite a lot of hand-wringing about whether the relationship portrayed in FSOG is abuse. Some of it certainly sounds a bit dodgy to me, but then, being a work of fiction, it was never intended as a dating manual or anything.
However, I am a total fan of JKR, both as a person and a writer.
So really it's just a tragic coincidence. But at least the book has laid one ghost to rest. For many years there's been a debate about whether writing can be said to be objectively good or objectively bad, or whether it's in the eye of the reader.
FSOG has answered that one. The writing is objectively, definitively bad.