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When I sat down to read Twilight, I did it with the expectation that I would hate it with a passion. So great was this expectation that I planned to take notes, so I could record my every reaction. That’s something I’ve never done before, in a lifetime filled with books. Not even in my college English courses did I become that focused.
By the middle of the first chapter, I realized it was the wrong attitude to take. In the first place, if I continued to note every little thing, it would take me days to finish reading: I already had a page full of observations both good and bad. In the second... I had allowed internet opinion and hype to color my expectations, and I was doing something I would not otherwise have done: reading the book solely to nitpick and judge.
So I stopped taking notes, and resolved to just read. From that point on, the only time I stopped to jot anything down was when I got to chapter 18, because I wanted to have a specific reference for later.
Bella annoyed me a great deal in the beginning. First because Meyer populated her thoughts with words and observations and conclusions that were out of character for a teen (or even an adult). For me, the worst of the vocabulary blunders is when Bella tells the reader that she doesn’t have many clothes, because her wardrobe in Phoenix was too ‘permeable’ for Forks. Permeable. Not light or flimsy or even just inappropriate, but permeable! After awhile, though – with the exception of her repeated descriptions of Edward – Bella’s vocabulary settles down. Either that, or I just became inured to it.
Second... I had difficulty deciding whether Meyer intended Bella to be a stuck up little twit, or she just made a number of annoying assumptions about small towns and small town schools, which Bella then had to relate. Or maybe she didn’t mean Bella to be stuck up, she was trying to make her sound mature and world-weary. It doesn’t really matter, though, because what she achieved was to make me irritated every time Bella was dismissive of her classes (she’s done it all before) or the available stores, or the size of the library. If Edward and the Cullens didn’t live there, Bella wouldn’t find a single positive thing about Forks. While it’s perfectly believable that Bella would constantly compare Forks to Phoenix, and find Forks lacking because she doesn’t want to be there, over time she should start (grudgingly, perhaps) noticing that there are good things about Forks, too. I suppose that the fact that she knows Forks – has spent time there before – is intended to make it more believable: she’s never found anything good about the town. It doesn’t work for me, though. Attitudes change, and Bella shouldn’t be able to cling to her loathing indefinitely. Nor should it suddenly disappear all in a rush, the way it does later. There should be phases.
When Bella started gushing over Edward, I rolled my eyes. When she decided she was in love with him – and it was a decision, not a revelation or a welling of emotion – I thought it was typical. Teenage girls ‘fall in love’ with handsome men for absolutely no reason or encouragement every day. The entire boy band phenomenon is based on this fact, to the extent that adults and disenfranchised teens are automatically dismissive of any group with this label. Girls proclaim undying love for teen stars and musicians, engage in fierce arguments over which teen icon is cuter, and get obsessive about collecting photos and albums. They are often vicious in their comments and observations if ever their dream boy becomes involved in a real relationship, and become heartbroken if the relationship turns serious. It’s ‘normal’ to act like this, and Bella isn’t the first fictional character to exhibit such behavior.
Unlike in reality, however, Edward reciprocates, and that makes no sense at all. What’s there to love? All he knows is that she smells edible, and that’s not really good for their future togetherness. She’s also apparently more attractive than she’d ever imagined, but the reader still gets the impression that he wouldn’t have paid any attention to her if he hadn’t wanted to eat her.
With the entrance of Edward as a full-time character (around chapter 13), the book shifts into the vampire romance genre. Much of what happens from this point on is a watered down mirror of the adult genre: undying love, evil rampaging vampires, cat and mouse games followed by a showdown and near death experience, a heroic rescue, and a happy ending. It’s formulaic, and there’s nothing about the writing or execution to make it stand out. The characters are caricatures, and the whole thing is just... boring.
That’s my primary reaction to it. I wanted to read it and be outraged, but really... I just think it’s dull. I don’t like it, but I don’t want to kill it with fire, either. I’m reminded of nothing so much as the way I felt after reading Inkheart: disappointed that what could have been a great idea was so poorly executed as to be a waste of both the idea and the energy it took to read it. (Please note, should you happen to be a fan of Cornelia Funke, that I’m not comparing the works, I’m comparing my reactions. I didn’t like Inkheart, and it’s the last book I read that I felt compelled to review... and in both cases I was left with a profound impression of meh.)
The edge of drama to everything didn’t bother me. Neither did Bella and Edward’s stupid decisions. Teens are melodramatic. Teens are stupid. Not all the time, but I think every teen has his/her moments. Especially if they feel disenfranchised – which, despite making the choice to come to Forks on her own, Bella definitely does at times. It’s not my cup of tea, mind you – this is not what I would choose to read for enjoyment – but I can at least understand why a teen could read this, and – if not exactly like it – at least not be sick. I suspect most teen readers don’t even notice that the gushing and the enthusing and such are over the top.
Which is an important thing to realize. This book isn’t going to encourage young teens to look at obsession as love, or prompt them to be drama queens, or coax them into lying to their parents. These are all things that teenage girls already do. (Ask the aforementioned teen idols.) That’s at least partly why they’re in the book. (Or so I hope, anyway. I can’t imagine that Meyer could nail so many of the stupidities of youth by shooting blindly.) It’s not right, reasonable, or fair to pretend otherwise and tar Twilight with the same brush you’d use for a how-to guide for murder. It’s not a good book, but it’s not the apocalypse in print, either.
Continuing in that same vein, I think Twilight has been unfairly bashed as anti-feminist. There are certainly a number of reviews complaining about it. What I’ve noticed about said reviews, however, is that – once they’re done complaining that Bella isn’t a model of female independence – they zero in on behaviors that are typical of the genre hero. During my reading, I certainly didn’t see either misogyny or anti-feminist messages, but neither am I predisposed to, either. However, what I did see was a vampire hero acting the way I’m accustomed to seeing a vampire hero act. Perhaps my having read and enjoyed a lot of vampire romance has colored my expectations and tempered my distaste. Or, perhaps – if these complaints are valid -- they shouldn’t be leveled at Twilight specifically, but at the vampire romance genre as a whole. That is... Twilight is a derivative of the adult vampire romance, and as such perpetuates many of the genre tropes. If those tropes are anti-feminist, then it’s not something that Twilight, specifically, has introduced. Reviewers are misdirecting their anger and vilifying the wrong target. Or not enough targets. Or something. (I have a headache.) ETA: I also think that reviewers forget that vampires tend to be at least a hundred years old, and as such were around before the women's movement. A four-thousand year old vampire with impressive powers and lots of money, who sees humans primarily as food... really doesn't have to be PC. Not until the leading lady has a chance to train him.
So, basically: I don’t think there’s anything here to either rave or rage over. There was no resounding crescendo of either awesome or fail. Instead, what I think is that the Twilight series is a fad. I think that it’s currently in fashion to have an opinion – whether good or bad – on the books and Bella and Edward, and even on Meyer. I’ve wasted three days on reading and reviewing this thing, and I am certainly not the target audience. I only did it so I’d know what I was talking about – how’s that for following the trend? I can say from personal experience, however, that people talk about Twilight without ever having read or watched it. It’s like the game telephone: one person reads Twilight, and hates it; she tells her friend about it, and gives examples of why she hates it; a few days later, the friend is asked if she knows anything about the book, and she repeats what she can remember... and now three people don’t like the book, and only one has actually read it. Word-of-mouth fuzzes and exaggerates and downplays the details, and in no time things get blown far out of proportion by both the lovers and the haters, and we have a big fuss over very little.
Now I have read it, though, and so I can say with certainty: there are far worse things out there in my opinion. If I had to choose between letting a teen read Twilight or watch Heathers, for example, Twilight would win without a second’s hesitation.
This is actually the second review I've written. Yesterday I wrote one where I tried to be intelligent and analytical, rather than just going with my opinion. I discussed what the traits of a typical vampire hero are, and how Edward exemplifies them. I explained what I think the problem with Edward really is (it has to do with the existing trope, and also his age). I talked about Bella’s issues (she's a prop). I detailed how I think Twilight was influenced by Christine Feehan’s Carpathian series (that creepy obsessive stalkery thing, for one), and why it doesn't work (teen romances are not adult romances).
I looked things up.
Basically, I think I tried to compensate for the fact that I’m not outraged by trying to figure out why other people are.
Sort of.
There was that section where I implied Edward sparkles because young girls like glitter...
I wasn’t quite finished when my computer died, and I was too tired at the time to fight with it. I just went to bed. When I woke up this morning, I decided I was dissatisfied with what I’d written because I’d tried – yet again, the first time being when I started taking notes – to force myself to be excessively critical of something that doesn’t warrant it. Twilight is just not that important. So I wrote this (the above) instead.
By the middle of the first chapter, I realized it was the wrong attitude to take. In the first place, if I continued to note every little thing, it would take me days to finish reading: I already had a page full of observations both good and bad. In the second... I had allowed internet opinion and hype to color my expectations, and I was doing something I would not otherwise have done: reading the book solely to nitpick and judge.
So I stopped taking notes, and resolved to just read. From that point on, the only time I stopped to jot anything down was when I got to chapter 18, because I wanted to have a specific reference for later.
Bella annoyed me a great deal in the beginning. First because Meyer populated her thoughts with words and observations and conclusions that were out of character for a teen (or even an adult). For me, the worst of the vocabulary blunders is when Bella tells the reader that she doesn’t have many clothes, because her wardrobe in Phoenix was too ‘permeable’ for Forks. Permeable. Not light or flimsy or even just inappropriate, but permeable! After awhile, though – with the exception of her repeated descriptions of Edward – Bella’s vocabulary settles down. Either that, or I just became inured to it.
Second... I had difficulty deciding whether Meyer intended Bella to be a stuck up little twit, or she just made a number of annoying assumptions about small towns and small town schools, which Bella then had to relate. Or maybe she didn’t mean Bella to be stuck up, she was trying to make her sound mature and world-weary. It doesn’t really matter, though, because what she achieved was to make me irritated every time Bella was dismissive of her classes (she’s done it all before) or the available stores, or the size of the library. If Edward and the Cullens didn’t live there, Bella wouldn’t find a single positive thing about Forks. While it’s perfectly believable that Bella would constantly compare Forks to Phoenix, and find Forks lacking because she doesn’t want to be there, over time she should start (grudgingly, perhaps) noticing that there are good things about Forks, too. I suppose that the fact that she knows Forks – has spent time there before – is intended to make it more believable: she’s never found anything good about the town. It doesn’t work for me, though. Attitudes change, and Bella shouldn’t be able to cling to her loathing indefinitely. Nor should it suddenly disappear all in a rush, the way it does later. There should be phases.
When Bella started gushing over Edward, I rolled my eyes. When she decided she was in love with him – and it was a decision, not a revelation or a welling of emotion – I thought it was typical. Teenage girls ‘fall in love’ with handsome men for absolutely no reason or encouragement every day. The entire boy band phenomenon is based on this fact, to the extent that adults and disenfranchised teens are automatically dismissive of any group with this label. Girls proclaim undying love for teen stars and musicians, engage in fierce arguments over which teen icon is cuter, and get obsessive about collecting photos and albums. They are often vicious in their comments and observations if ever their dream boy becomes involved in a real relationship, and become heartbroken if the relationship turns serious. It’s ‘normal’ to act like this, and Bella isn’t the first fictional character to exhibit such behavior.
Unlike in reality, however, Edward reciprocates, and that makes no sense at all. What’s there to love? All he knows is that she smells edible, and that’s not really good for their future togetherness. She’s also apparently more attractive than she’d ever imagined, but the reader still gets the impression that he wouldn’t have paid any attention to her if he hadn’t wanted to eat her.
With the entrance of Edward as a full-time character (around chapter 13), the book shifts into the vampire romance genre. Much of what happens from this point on is a watered down mirror of the adult genre: undying love, evil rampaging vampires, cat and mouse games followed by a showdown and near death experience, a heroic rescue, and a happy ending. It’s formulaic, and there’s nothing about the writing or execution to make it stand out. The characters are caricatures, and the whole thing is just... boring.
That’s my primary reaction to it. I wanted to read it and be outraged, but really... I just think it’s dull. I don’t like it, but I don’t want to kill it with fire, either. I’m reminded of nothing so much as the way I felt after reading Inkheart: disappointed that what could have been a great idea was so poorly executed as to be a waste of both the idea and the energy it took to read it. (Please note, should you happen to be a fan of Cornelia Funke, that I’m not comparing the works, I’m comparing my reactions. I didn’t like Inkheart, and it’s the last book I read that I felt compelled to review... and in both cases I was left with a profound impression of meh.)
The edge of drama to everything didn’t bother me. Neither did Bella and Edward’s stupid decisions. Teens are melodramatic. Teens are stupid. Not all the time, but I think every teen has his/her moments. Especially if they feel disenfranchised – which, despite making the choice to come to Forks on her own, Bella definitely does at times. It’s not my cup of tea, mind you – this is not what I would choose to read for enjoyment – but I can at least understand why a teen could read this, and – if not exactly like it – at least not be sick. I suspect most teen readers don’t even notice that the gushing and the enthusing and such are over the top.
Which is an important thing to realize. This book isn’t going to encourage young teens to look at obsession as love, or prompt them to be drama queens, or coax them into lying to their parents. These are all things that teenage girls already do. (Ask the aforementioned teen idols.) That’s at least partly why they’re in the book. (Or so I hope, anyway. I can’t imagine that Meyer could nail so many of the stupidities of youth by shooting blindly.) It’s not right, reasonable, or fair to pretend otherwise and tar Twilight with the same brush you’d use for a how-to guide for murder. It’s not a good book, but it’s not the apocalypse in print, either.
Continuing in that same vein, I think Twilight has been unfairly bashed as anti-feminist. There are certainly a number of reviews complaining about it. What I’ve noticed about said reviews, however, is that – once they’re done complaining that Bella isn’t a model of female independence – they zero in on behaviors that are typical of the genre hero. During my reading, I certainly didn’t see either misogyny or anti-feminist messages, but neither am I predisposed to, either. However, what I did see was a vampire hero acting the way I’m accustomed to seeing a vampire hero act. Perhaps my having read and enjoyed a lot of vampire romance has colored my expectations and tempered my distaste. Or, perhaps – if these complaints are valid -- they shouldn’t be leveled at Twilight specifically, but at the vampire romance genre as a whole. That is... Twilight is a derivative of the adult vampire romance, and as such perpetuates many of the genre tropes. If those tropes are anti-feminist, then it’s not something that Twilight, specifically, has introduced. Reviewers are misdirecting their anger and vilifying the wrong target. Or not enough targets. Or something. (I have a headache.) ETA: I also think that reviewers forget that vampires tend to be at least a hundred years old, and as such were around before the women's movement. A four-thousand year old vampire with impressive powers and lots of money, who sees humans primarily as food... really doesn't have to be PC. Not until the leading lady has a chance to train him.
So, basically: I don’t think there’s anything here to either rave or rage over. There was no resounding crescendo of either awesome or fail. Instead, what I think is that the Twilight series is a fad. I think that it’s currently in fashion to have an opinion – whether good or bad – on the books and Bella and Edward, and even on Meyer. I’ve wasted three days on reading and reviewing this thing, and I am certainly not the target audience. I only did it so I’d know what I was talking about – how’s that for following the trend? I can say from personal experience, however, that people talk about Twilight without ever having read or watched it. It’s like the game telephone: one person reads Twilight, and hates it; she tells her friend about it, and gives examples of why she hates it; a few days later, the friend is asked if she knows anything about the book, and she repeats what she can remember... and now three people don’t like the book, and only one has actually read it. Word-of-mouth fuzzes and exaggerates and downplays the details, and in no time things get blown far out of proportion by both the lovers and the haters, and we have a big fuss over very little.
Now I have read it, though, and so I can say with certainty: there are far worse things out there in my opinion. If I had to choose between letting a teen read Twilight or watch Heathers, for example, Twilight would win without a second’s hesitation.
This is actually the second review I've written. Yesterday I wrote one where I tried to be intelligent and analytical, rather than just going with my opinion. I discussed what the traits of a typical vampire hero are, and how Edward exemplifies them. I explained what I think the problem with Edward really is (it has to do with the existing trope, and also his age). I talked about Bella’s issues (she's a prop). I detailed how I think Twilight was influenced by Christine Feehan’s Carpathian series (that creepy obsessive stalkery thing, for one), and why it doesn't work (teen romances are not adult romances).
I looked things up.
Basically, I think I tried to compensate for the fact that I’m not outraged by trying to figure out why other people are.
Sort of.
There was that section where I implied Edward sparkles because young girls like glitter...
I wasn’t quite finished when my computer died, and I was too tired at the time to fight with it. I just went to bed. When I woke up this morning, I decided I was dissatisfied with what I’d written because I’d tried – yet again, the first time being when I started taking notes – to force myself to be excessively critical of something that doesn’t warrant it. Twilight is just not that important. So I wrote this (the above) instead.
