[I started writing this post in October of 2018, about the time I wrote a Roblog post called Just Reading, which, by the way, you should go read now, even if you read it when it first came out. It's a pretty good one, and it suggests that I was going to write about Twilight. Which I did. Until I stopped writing. Not just that post, but in general. The Roblog has only 3 posts for last year, not including this and a couple of others that got stuck in the pipeline. I will attempt to get things flowing again, but I suspect that this year will not be an improvement. Time will tell.]
There comes a time in every father's life when he realizes that something has changed. His children are not little offshoots of his own personality, they are individuals. Not only are they separate from him, they are practically little aliens. It is enough to make one wonder whether some otherworldly genetic code has somehow been spliced into the offspring.
Okay, I'll just come out and say it: Maxine has read the entire Twilight series by Stephanie Meyers, in Korean and in English. And she likes it. And that kind of freaks me out a bit.
Don't get me wrong, I bought the full set of books for her. Any reading is good reading at 13 (14 now, 16 in Korean age, damn you Korean age counting system!), and tastes change as one matures.
I read the first book for myself, and it was just not my thing. It had bits that weren't bad, like... (spoiler alert! though I'm guessing that everyone reading this falls into one of two camps: 1) read the books multiple times 2) hasn't read the books, has no plan to read the books, is only reading this because it's laying some pretty sick burns on the books, can't imagine reading these books no matter how much they love their little girl, etc.)
One bit that wasn't bad was the fight scene at the end. It was well told from the point of view of the human being used as bait. There were a few other plot driving scenes that worked all right, and some conversations that... communicated ideas important to the plot.
Speaking of the plot... Twilight felt like a short story expanded into a novel, but I understand that this may be a symptom (cough-cough) of the supernatural-romance genre (the romance part, not the supernatural part). There were so many words dedicated to admiring Edward that by the end I found myself wondering what it would be like to drag my fingers along his finely sculpted chest, just like Bella spent most of the book wondering. One reason I love to read is that it helps me understand others better. But what is the difference between understanding the alien and becoming the alien?
Of course, the answer is that now I remember the imprint of that longing, but it was never mine. It was just a tour of the heart of a teenage girl, albeit a fictitious one. But a tour that many young women and girls gladly take, over and over. I can imagine myself being easily carried away by such longing if it had been more in synch with my own.
This wasn't my first vampire book, of course. I read Stoker's Dracula many years ago (perhaps long enough that I owe it another read). I followed Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire series for a while, as well as Susie Stackhouse's books about being dead. Many movies, t.v. shows, and short stories involving vampires have also left their impressions, so my definition of "vampire" is a flexible one.
As such, I was not overly upset by the liberties that Meyers took with defining her blood-drinking, living dead anti-heroes. I actually thought that making them sparkle in the sunlight was an interesting twist on explaining why they avoid sunshine.* My biggest gripe is the one that every vampire mythos has to deal with: you have a ridiculously overpowered predator which can easily turn a regular human into another ridiculously overpowered predator. One lapse in judgement and it's Vampire Apocalypse. The Vampalypse? Apocapire? The Vampocapiralypse?
*They avoid sunshine because of the ancient law: "Thou shalt not combine the serious and the fabulous, lest the Lord smite thee with irony and they neighbor be consumed with jealousy."
It's possible that she deals with this power imbalance in the sequels, and she did introduce the werewolves to keep an eye on the blood-suckers. But maybe this is just a limitation of the vampire genre, like faster-than-light travel in science fiction, the powers of superheroes, and people breaking into song during a musical: you just sort of mentally look off in another direction and whistle tunelessly rather than think too much about it.
However, my biggest issue with the story is over a different kind of power imbalance, namely the relationship between Bella and Edward. At just over 100 years old (born in 1901, converted at 17) Edward is young for a vampire. But Bella is a high school student, 17 years old. The same age that Edward was when he died. (By the way, ick.) By contrast, I am almost 50 years old, and I can barely even remember a time when I was young enough to look at a 17-year-old girl and think, "I wish I could marry her!" And for me, the rest of my life is only a few more decades (if I'm lucky), as opposed to forever, or until someone cuts off my head and burns my body and scatters the ashes just to be sure.*
*Instructions from the book for killing a vampire. Technically, having my head cut off and my body burned and the ashes scattered would be end my life. Okay, not even technically. It just would. The point being that however miserable I might be in a relationship, at least I know it will end when I die. And that it won't be that long. And... I think I need a drink.
I suppose one can get around this by just thinking of Edward as a kind of freaky 17-year-old with sparkly skin and super powers, but this is not a big improvement. Not if you've spent much time around most 17-year-olds.
I also did not care for Bella's father: he was like a cardboard cutout with "father" written across the chest. He was the most trusting police chief and least paranoid father ever. I know that the family was broken, and that his relationship with Bella needed some work, but it felt like she was more casual housemate than daughter to me. Perhaps a distant cousin. Maybe in the next book he will be a little more protective, since the first book ends with his daughter hospitalized with a bunch of broken bones. I will probably never know.*
*Because there are many many books I still want to read, and a pretty long list of books that I would be happy to read again, and I will have to be extremely bored and have access to nothing much else before I pick up a copy of Breaking Dawn.
I did figure out a way to get some amusement out of Twilight other than tearing pages out and throwing them at passers-by. Because the story is told from Bella's point of view, the only clues we have as to Edwards thought processes are what he tells her. This is actually a key point of the plot, that she isn't sure what he is thinking. So while I was reading it, I imagined that Edward was playing with Bella on the level you would expect from a one hundred year old, frightfully intelligent and quick-thinking manipulative jerk of a vampire.* Since the reader only sees and hears what Bella sees and hears, we have no idea what is going on in his head. Vampires are often portrayed as being fiendishly intelligent and completely lacking in morals, so what if Edward is really just seasoning Bella up so that she will taste better later? Maybe the more she likes him, the tastier her blood will be! And if she truly loves him with all of her heart, draining her of all life will be a transcendent, maybe even religious experience!
* Like Lestat, or Count Dracula, or a member of the Black Court from the Dresden Files. Don't get me started on Jim Butcher's vampires: clever, evil, non-sparkly, and powerful, but not the most powerful players on the board by a long stretch.
If that is the case, Edward needs to get Bella to think he is the bees knees.* Like any good lie, there are bits of truth in what he says: it's hard to resist feeding on her because she is so fascinating to him. True. Fascinating like a bucket of fried chicken. And when he says he won't let anyone hurt her, he means it. He doesn't want her unique flavors ruined by anyone else. When he says he loves her, it's like loving a bottle of wine that you are saving for a special occasion. And at the end of the book he has the strength to defeat a stronger, meaner, older vampire because that philistine was not only stealing his property, but would never be able to fully appreciate how delectable she was.
*An expression popular in the 20s, when Edward was in his 20s.
Lying to Bella is easy for Edward, because he has had a hundred years to practice: He can control his body completely, down to pretending that he needs to breath. He can read her physical reactions with a little effort, even if he's not lying about being unable to read her mind. (I'm accepting this as true in my interpretation, and part of what makes her smell so tasty to him.)
My little theory only works early in the series. In one of the later books they get married. He makes her into a vampire so that they can "live" happily forever after (or until they get crossovered into a "Blade" sequel, knock on wood). It could still be an alternate version of Twilight, but I will never give my theory the write up it deserves, because to do it properly I would have to spend even more time reading and researching the original. Also, I'm just not in the mood to make that many enemies. I don't even have a good title for it. I was thinking maybe, "It's Getting Kinda Dark Outside," or more simply, "Gaslight." Perhaps "Edward is Evil, but What a Hunk." Fans would refer to it as EEWH. I'm open to suggestions.
Though I didn't really enjoy it, I have to admit that the Twilight series has staying power. People are still reading them, and they were made into fairly popular movies. Female friends of mine have laid claims to these books, saying that they enjoyed the books when they were younger. One attraction seems to be that Bella is written as a blank slate in the book, ready for the reader to step into her place. When I was young I often imagined myself as a character in the story I was reading, and as such enjoyed the first person point of view. It's a tougher sell for me now, especially when I find the viewpoint difficult to process.
Like feeling totally helpless in front of someone you have a deep crush on. That's not a fantasy, it's a nightmare. To me, anyway. I understand that the fantasy is that Edward has all of this power over her, but he doesn't use it. He doesn't want to use it, and is afraid of using it for fear of hurting her. (Unless you read my fanfic!)
In this story of immortal beings with supernatural strength and abilities, it's possible that this particular fantasy is the most difficult to believe, and the one that appeals most to the target demographic.
I understand the words and ideas, I just don't see the appeal. My mind went right to imagining that Edward so devious that Bella doesn't realize that he is evil. I don't want to be Edward, but it's hard to imagine him the way he is portrayed. I want to understand Bella, but I can't see wanting what she wants.
The whole thing is just too alien for me. But attempting to understand it may give me some insight into how Maxine thinks and feels, so it's worth it.
Earth to Maxine, can you hear me? What is it you see in Edward and Bella that makes you read and reread those books the same way I used to read Asimov's Foundation series? Can we communicate? Can we find any common ground?
Or do we just sit and read together? I call that a good start.
