Over the past few weeks when I worked at the bookstore, about the only book people have been buying (or ordering, as the store continuously sells out of it) is “Fifty Shades of Grey” by E.L. James, an erotic novel about a young woman in a sensual love affair with a wealthy and handsome billionaire.

This is also the same book that the Hall County Library System (as reported by The Times May 11) will not carry. The reason? It will only buy books that possess “literary merit.” “Fifty Shades of Grey,” apparently, does not qualify as such a book.

What, exactly, defines “literary merit?” According to the College Board’s “Engaging Students with Literature” Curriculum, literary merit entails: 1. The written work has been judged to have artistic quality by the literary community (teachers, students, librarians, critics, etc.); 2. The themes are complex and nuanced; 3. It does not conform to formulaic expectations; 4. It entertains the reader and is interesting to read.

Books like Fifty Shades and other popular series such as “The Hunger Games” and “Twilight” hit upon the last of these definitions, even if the definitions themselves are vague (aren’t terms like “entertaining” and “interesting” subjective?).

But does popularity make a book genuinely good? There must be something about these novels that draws in so many readers. It can’t be that the majority of the population prefers “junk food” reading to the decadence of truly innovative, original, finely-honed writing. Right?

In contrast to these trendy titles, look at this year’s finalists for the Pulitzer Prize in “Fiction: Train Dreams” by Denis Johnson; “Swamplandia!” by Karen Russell; and “The Pale King” by the late David Foster Wallace. (Sadly, there was no official award given this year, as the judges could not come to a consensus for a winner.)

How many people have even heard of, let alone read, any of these books? I do not recall these novels being strongly marketed, or having received any push in promotion after being nominated. One would think that there would be more public encouragement to read novels that were selected as the best written works of the year.

So why does it seem like what is popular in fiction these days does not coincide with what is deemed to have literary merit? Why do so many readers gobble up pop culture movie fodder fads, and pass over the in-depth portrayals of the human condition and psyche?

It is not to say readers cannot like both, but novels like Fifty Shades have tapped into a particular type of emotional fascination with readers that many “merited” books don’t. It is the “taboo fantasy” — not just any fantasy, like traveling to an exotic place or falling in love with the ideal person.

“Fifty Shades of Grey” is an erotica boasting very vivid, very extreme sexual scenarios. “Hunger Games” has rebellious teens defying an oppressive authority, and becoming hailed warriors in a bloody battle where they must kill fellow competitors. “Twilight” ... don’t get me started on what’s wrong with Twilight (and, ironically enough, Fifty Shades was originally conceived as Twilight fan-fiction).

The main complaint I have heard about these books, these stories where the authors self-indulge in over-the-top fantasies, is that they are poorly written — not that the plots are weak or the characters lackluster, but that the writing itself is mediocre and boring. In other words, it is writing that requires no thinking whatsoever, on either the author’s or the reader’s part.

So I ask, can we not be entertained while also being made to contemplate, to be enlightened to expect more out of our literature than just, for lack of a better term, eye candy? Can a book not only make us feel, but also think? Or will emotion and intellect always be duking it out for dominance in the literary world?

Alison Reeger Cook is a Gainesville resident whose Off the Shelves book review appears every other week in Sunday Life. Know of a good book to review? E-mail her to tell her about it. Her column appears biweekly and on gainesvilletimes.com/life.