Twilight Zone

Although it’s a bit dated now, I began this anti-Twilight piece a few months ago after slogging through the book. I’d become interested in the franchise because smart women seemed to lose their minds over these stories, and I read the novel to understand the appeal. Well, the experience was even more disheartening than I’d anticipated. This rant resulted.

Admittedly, I was pre-biased against Twilight based upon some feminist critiques I’d read. After finally plodding through that ponderous tome, I found myself angry. Very, very angry. My displeasure was two-fold: the writing and the implied message.

First, the writing SUCKS.

Until about ¾ of the way through the book, the plot consists of “my boyfriend’s a vampire." The “bad” vampire tracker/antagonist has no motivation except that he hunts. To paraphrase, that’s just what he does. He likes killing. Uh, okay. He’s a vampire. Doesn’t he get more motivation than “I like killin’”?

Then there were the random, weird settings, like the dance studio. Major portions of latter part of the book take place in a dance studio we’ve never heard of or seen before, a place that doesn’t seem to have any particular relevance to the characters. Oh, and to, I guess, emphasize the Cullen family’s all-Americanness, they play baseball. The peculiar settings and seemingly random activities sound like the stories I wrote in middle school. I wrote what I knew. Apparently, Meyer knows dance studios and family baseball games.

And then there’s the character development. Or lack thereof. The dialogue has as much flavor as oatmeal. Without tags, I had difficulty telling who was speaking. Didja notice how Bella’s friends were played in the film by actors with very distinct physical appearances? How else would the audience have distinguished among them?

The characters suffer from an overall lack of description. Except for the color of his eyes, I don’t really know what Edward looks like. I know Bella finds him angelic, godlike, and otherwise freakin’ hot. So am I supposed to fill in the blanks w/whomever I think is hot?

As everyone now knows, the one detail Meyer did provide, is that the vampires fucking sparkle. Did someone attack the vamps with a Bedazzler? So, these creatures of the night, these undead… they sparkle? Well, my ideal hottie vampire would not sparkle, I can tell you that… (Spike doesn’t sparkle. And he’d kick the ass of any vamp who did.)

But far, far worse than the writing—and that’s a challenge, given how poorly this book is written—are the implicit messages in the book. Although I don’t believe that writers are necessarily responsible for creating heroes and heroines who are “good role models,” with YA writing, I do believe they should take that perspective into account. And here’s where I have my biggest issues with the book.

First, there’s Bella. She’s wimpy. She’s smart, or at least ahead of her classmates, but it’s never clear whether she’s a bookworm or an artist or if she might belong to some other non-popular clique. She’s a clutz, and that’s about all we know of her “talents.” She has no interests beyond feeding Charlie and making sure her mom is not worried about her. Sure, it might be a failing of the writing to have undeveloped characters, but it’s also a bad message for young female readers. Your boyfriend: the only hobby you’ll ever need!

Bella lacks what other geeky characters have—Ron, Hermoine, and Harry, for example—who are endearing when they manage to find within themselves the strength and wisdom to do more than they imagined themselves capable.

Toward the end of the book, Bella hatches a half-baked plot to sacrifice herself to the bad vampire and then ends up rescued by Edward. She doesn’t even remember the confrontation or being saved. And throughout the book, she basically exists to be saved by Edward’s superhuman awesomeness.

Further, there’s no indication of why Edward likes her, except that she smells good. Believe me, I understand the importance of someone’s smell. But usually, there’s also more to attraction than that.

The criticism I’ve seen of Twilight tended to focus mostly on the creepiness of Edward’s approach to Bella: how stalker-y he behaves toward her. And yes, his watching her while she sleeps and eavesdropping on her conversations does smack of stalker behavior. I find more distressing the possessiveness he exhibits toward the end of the novel when Jacob tries to warn her about him.

Most unsettling, however, is the basic premise upon which their relationship is founded: that his attraction to her involves wanting to drink her blood and probably kill her in the process. And she acquiesces to possibly dying at her boyfriend’s hand because she loves him. This idea of “I love you so much I might kill you” sounds eerily like what abusers tell their partners to keep them in line. It’s right up there with “look what you made me do” and “this hurts me more than it hurts you.”

The stalking, the possessiveness, and the violence-as-love are incredibly damaging. I might feel differently if Edward weren’t considered the hero, the love interest. But Edward is in control. Always. Of his own bloodlust. Of the sexual course of their relationship. Of Bella’s initiation into vampirehood.

I’ve heard many otherwise intelligent women gush, “he’s my Edward!” If that’s true, RUN! RUN FAR! RUN NOW! If he’s an “Edward,” then his attraction to you is predicated on wanting to kill you, and you are displaying the strength and intelligence of a dishtowel.

Think I’m attributing unfounded motives to Edward? Go read the first chapter of Midnight Sun, Meyer’s rewrite of Twilight from Stalker-Boy Edward’s perspective. It reveals Edward Cullen as the abusive, soulless, murderous prick he really is: http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/midnightsun.html.