Of the swathes of women jetting off on holiday this week, a fair few will have a guilty pleasure lurking in their suitcase.

For many women, from twentysomething students to middle-aged divorcees, erotic novel Fifty Shades of Grey is replacing frothy chick lit as the poolside reading material of choice this summer.

Shifting more than 20 million copies worldwide, and now the fastest-selling adult book ever, EL James’s novel and its two sequels, about the sado-masochistic relationship between a college graduate and a wealthy businessman, have re-awakened women’s interest in reading and boosted library usage.

Now classic novels by Jane Austen and the Brontes are to get “mummy porn” makeovers. Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, widely considered a feminist novel, is to be reworked as a steamy bodice-ripper, prompting the T&A headline, “Jane Phwoar!”

If Charlotte Bronte could witness the transformation of her “poor, obscure, plain and little” governess into a breathless sap, I can’t help thinking she’d be as unimpressed as Jane herself was while quietly observing the ringlet-bobbing young women giggling at Rochester’s parties.

Bronte’s novel, about an independent woman seeking connection in a dislocated world, addresses themes of morality, sexuality and social class as well as love and passion. All the men Jane meets, from her cruel schoolmaster to her demanding employer Rochester, use their power to try to dominate her. While swept up in passion, Jane clings to her independence; reflecting Bronte’s views on patriarchal Victorian society.

For passion with substance, the readers of Fifty Shades Of Grey don’t need a sexed-up version of Jane Eyre. The original has enough bristling sexual tension to get pulses racing around the pool – and Byronic Rochester is surely one of the sexiest men in English literature.

While visiting the reference library at Haworth ’s Bronte Parsonage once, I noticed a faded newspaper cutting bearing the line: ‘In Austen, sex is just a kiss on the hand. In the Brontes, everything happens’.

Too right. Give me Rochester’s dark humour and seething rage over Fitzwilliam Darcy’s sanctimonious wit and insufferable pride any day.

While Jane Austen’s men take afternoon tea with giddy girls in bonnets, the Brontes’ heroes brood in the shadows, brimming over with lust.

The post-Bridget Jones years saw a boom in formulaic chick lit, and now the erotica revolution has shaken up the publishing world. But if it’s really so liberating, why are women reading Fifty Shades from behind their Kindles?

This “mummy porn” is what Mills & Boon was to a previous generation. Cheap thrills come and go, but for a truly liberating literary romp, Bronte’s own clandestine classic will outlive them all.