In a bid to understand what all the fuss is about, I purchased this book in paperback from a well-known online retailer. I will be blogging about it as I read through, doing an entry every 10 chapters. The book comes up a lot in discussion. It, together with the two successive parts, forms a trilogy that last week made up nearly a third of the fiction market in the UK. Also, over a drink, a girl tells me that she thinks it is strange for a man to read it. ‘Bad enough for women to read it’, she says. But it’s sexism makes it dire reading for the man. I am enthralled by some of the bad writing in it: textbook on how not to write, but its idiom is somewhat addictive. Damn, I think. Why I am so affected by this book?