To the surprise of no one, Fifty Shades of Grey author E.L. James and her new book The Mister are garnering some pretty bad reviews.
The Mister tells the story of a romance between wealthy, callous British aristocrat Maxim Trevelyan (who is also a DJ, photographer and a model) and his Albanian housecleaner Alessia Demachi, a migrant who was brought to England illegally by traffickers.
Despite that description, the author calls her new novel “a Cinderella story for the 21st century.” Well, okay then.
Here are some choice review highlights:
“James retains her capacity to write sex scenes that last thousands of words in a row, but not without including turns of phrase that make you, as the reader, want to bleach your own brain. Alessia’s moan, Maxim notes, ‘is soft and husky as her head falls into the palm of my hand. It’s music to my dick.’ Later, ‘a shocked giggle bubbles up from her happy place.’” — The Atlantic
“Some people are not equipped to write stories of social realism that delves into topics like domestic abuse and sex trafficking. E.L. James is to these topics what Hannibal Lecter is to vegan cookery.” — Pajiba
“You will laugh a lot during this book, and not in a good way.” — iNews
E.L. James' The Mister is so much worse than Fifty Shades: EW review https://t.co/3EspuFSDFe— Entertainment Weekly (@EW) April 16, 2019
“Maybe certain (male) readers will be intrigued by Alessia, a submissive virgin who only wants to cook and clean and play piano and expresses nothing but gratitude. But for me, a woman attracted to men, that guy is supposed to be the ultimate object of my sexual fantasies? In that respect, The Mister truly fails. Because he doesn’t come close. F.” — Entertainment Weekly
EL James's The Mister – turns out books and sex can be this bad https://t.co/TyxNyU60V4— The Guardian (@guardian) April 17, 2019
“James writes sex like a 14-year-old who thinks they know how it is done (“‘Kiss me,’ she growls, her voice low and demanding. She runs her tongue over her top teeth and my body responds, my groin tightening”), she also writes about wealth like she’s not the author of a trilogy that has sold millions. Trevelyan doesn’t just have a fast car, he drives an F-type Jag. He doesn’t just have speakers, he owns a Sonos system. His bubblebath isn’t just bubblebath, it is Jo Malone bubblebath. In one scene, he even orders a double Negroni in a bar, which is definitely not a thing, but clearly something James believes sophisticated men would like.” — The Guardian
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